Lady Jane: A Time For Us
by autumnrose2010
Summary: The night before they are to be beheaded, Lady Jane Grey and her husband Guilford Dudley are rescued by a group of Huguenots and smuggled into France. Eventually reunited with their families many years later, they must once again adjust to life at court.
1. Rescue

**February 11, 1554  
>Tower Of London<strong>

She was only seventeen years old, yet she was going to be beheaded tomorrow, although she was innocent. Those more powerful than herself had bent her to their will, had forced her to take on great responsibility, and with their defeat had gone any chance she had had of being allowed to live out the remainder of her days.

Lady Jane Grey couldn't sleep on what was to be the last night of her earthly life. How she longed for Guilford! She would see him on the other side, she knew, and she drew great comfort from that. Yet the memory of his kiss, of his gentle carress, was permanently seared into her memory, and she would keep it with her forever.

Suddenly she sensed movement behind her, and before she could move, someone had lifted her from her bed and was carrying her downstairs. A hand tightly covered her mouth so that she couldn't scream. Soon the cool air on her skin told her that she was outside the tower. She looked up and saw nothing but the stars in the velvet black sky. She felt herself being placed in a carriage, felt the carriage moving, and saw the stars speeding by. The hand still tightly covered her mouth, and she would have been too startled to say anything anyway.

She must have dozed off at some point, because when she awakened, she was being gently lifted from the carriage and placed in a boat. Within a few minutes, she could feel the movement of the water gently rocking the boat, and that lulled her back to sleep.

When she awoke once more, she was being lifted from the boat and placed in another carriage. The sky was just beginning to turn pink as the last star twinkled out. Eventually the carriage came to a stop, and she was carried into a house and placed on the floor.

She sat and looked at her surroundings. She was in a small, sparsely-furnished cottage. Her captors were four rough-looking, dark-complected men, and beside her was Guilford! Instinctively she moved closer to him, and he clasped her protectively.

One of the men spoke. "Don't be afraid. We mean you no harm. We have saved you from martyrdom at the hands of the idol-worshipping Queen Mary and her Spanish Prince Phillip, who also prays to Mary and the saints." Jane realized that the man spoke French, a language she and Guilford were both fluent in.

"The Lord God has sent his true children to save us!" she whispered to Guilford, in English.

"So it would appear," he whispered back.

"I am Gaston," the man continued. "The others are Pierre, Andre, and Henri. Like yourselves, we are outcast for our refusal to submit to the Pope, because like you, we realize that he is just a man. No one is infallible but the Lord God himself and his son Jesus Christ."

Jane and Guilford, overcome with relief, relaxed as they realized that they were indeed amongst friends.

A woman appeared and stood beside Pierre. "I am Pierre's wife, Suzanne," she told them. "Welcome to our home. You are safe here."

Jane, too overcome to speak, slumped against Guilford as his arms tightened around her.


	2. Hiding Place

Pierre fetched a ladder and, leaning it against the wall, climbed several steps and moved part of the roof away.

"Follow me," Suzanne said to Jane and Guilford. They followed her up the ladder and found themselves in a tiny but spotless room. As the sides of the roof slanted down on each side, there was not much room to walk around. There were a number of pillows scattered about, and stacked in the corner were several folded blankets, a number of candles, and what appeared to be a Bible and a hymnbook. There were no windows.

"This is where our weekly church services are held," Suzanne explained. "We meet at midnight so that there's less chance of our being discovered. If the authorities knew this room existed, we would all be imprisoned and possibly executed. It's of utmost importance that you remain as quiet as possible, especially during the daylight hours. We will bring your meals to you."

"I can't begin to tell you how truly grateful I am to you for saving our lives," Jane said. "I only regret that your own lives were put at risk to do so."

"Your deaths would have meant one more victory for the heretics. We were determined not to let that happen," Pierre said. "The more they oppress us, the harder we will fight to overcome and trust that God will allow the true believers to prevail."

Pierre and Suzanne went back down the ladder and replaced the section of roof, and Jane and Guilford were left alone for the first time since before they had been arrested.

"Oh my love, I was so worried," Guilford said. "Did they harm you in any way?"

Jane shook her head. "The only harm they did me was in keeping me from you, my darling."

"I thought that the next time I would see your face would be in the presence of God," Guilford said huskily as he reached for her.

"My Guilford," she breathed, allowing herself to be engulfed in his arms.

He began to kiss her, softly at first, then more passionately, and she responded with equal passion. Guilford broke away from her embrace only long enough to arrange the pillows so that they could lie on them, then resumed kissing her and fondling her breasts. After a while, he fetched a blanket to cover them, and they struggled out of their clothing. She gasped with pleasure as she felt him enter her, and they began to move together eagerly, hungrily, desperately. Mindful of the house's occupants below them, they remembered not to cry out as their passion was sated. Afterwards, Guilford held her as they both almost instantly fell into an exhaused sleep that lasted until the early afternoon.


	3. A New Life

When Jane and Guilford awoke, they found that Suzanne had left a meal for them.

"Our rescuers truly are angels from above," Jane said. Ravenous, they both ate quickly. Although each was concerned that the other had gotten enough to eat, both felt sated after consuming all of the food. After they had finished eating, Guilford sat on a pillow on the floor holding Jane close to himself, and she rested her head on his shoulder as they spoke together in whispers.

"Although I am grateful to be alive, and with you, it breaks my heart to think that I may never again see my dear sisters," Jane said.

"Likewise, I am very concerned about my mother's welfare," Guilford replied. "Although my brothers and sisters are still there to help her, she no longer has my father alive, and she knows not where I am nor what has become of me. I only wish that there were some way to send word to her that I am still alive and with you."

"I doubt whether my own mother cares what has become of me," Jane said bitterly.

"I know that she treated you very cruelly, my love," Guilford said softly. "But you are of her own flesh and blood, so deep inside, she must harbor some concern for you."

"I hope that poor Mary will fare all right," Jane said. "With a crooked spine it may be difficult for her to find a husband." Mary, the younger of Jane's two younger sisters, was a hunchback.

"Don't despair," Guilford said comfortingly. "Perchance she will meet a man who will see beyond her physical imperfections to the inner beauty she possesses inside."

"I hope that she finds a man as much like you as possible," Jane said.

Guilford grinned. "I am very fortunate in that I have been blessed with a wife who possesses both inner and outer beauty."

"You flatterer." Jane smiled and blushed with pleasure.

* * *

><p>Guilford and Jane quickly fell into a routine of mostly sleeping during the day and spending the nights alternating between whispering together softly and studying the Bible and other works of literature by candlelight at night. It was very different from the life they had been accustomed to, but they adapted to it quickly with no complaints.<p>

The night of the weekly church service arrived, and Jane and Guilford saw the other men who had helped rescue them for the second time and met their wives and children. Andre's wife was named Pauline, and he had a young son, Francois, and an infant daughter, Veronique. Henri's wife was named Simone, and their infant son was named Jacques. Gaston, their leader, wasn't married.

"The title of tonight's sermon is 'Salvation By Grace Alone'," Gaston began. The others paid rapt attention. "I woud like to discuss the heretical doctine of Purgatory. Those who still cling to the belief system of the Mother church claim that Purgatory is a place that all go to upon death for additional cleansing of the sins they committed while alive. Those who wished to collect money for the construction of St. Peter's Basilica used this doctine to swindle the faithful by the selling of indulgences. These ignorant souls were told that by purchasing the virtues and good works of Mary and the saints that the stay of their loved ones in Purgatory could be shortened. There was actually a saying that went like this: 'When the coin in the coffer doth ring, the soul from Purgatory doth spring'."

"What these poor deceived people failed to realize is that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ paid the sin debt in full through his death on the cross. That was what He meant when He said, 'It is finished.' It is grace, and grace alone, that earns an immediate place in heaven for each believer upon death. The purchasing of indulgences to shorten one's loved one's time in Purgatory is completely unnecessary, as Purgatory doesn't even exist. Yet these thieves caused untold mental anguish to many, who imagined their departed loved ones still suffering for sins committed during their lifetime, when in reality those loved ones were already living in bliss with God and the saints in heaven."

Several times while Gaston was speaking, a slight noise was heard or even imagined from the outside, causing the group in the attic to immediately snuff out all candles and huddle in silence and fear.

It was well after midnight when the service was adjourned and Jane and Guilford were once again left alone in the attic.

"These people are risking their lives for the sake of the truth," Jane said.

"They are much to be admired," Guilford agreed. "I am proud to be counted as a part of their group."

"It saddens me deeply that my cousin the queen will now lead my countrymen once more into ignorance and superstition, and there's nothing I can do about it," Jane said sadly.

"At least there is a remnant of true believers left alive in England, as there is here," Guilford said. "Let us pray that they can somehow counter the ruling forces with the words of the true Gospel, even if it costs them their lives."

"That is surely will," Jane replied.


	4. Things To Come

_The group huddled close together in the dark, hardly daring to whisper, glancing around nervously every few minutes. Suddenly, the door burst open, and a group of rough-looking men forced their way in. From the way they were dressed, it was obvious that they were in the service of Queen Mary Tudor. Snatching up Bibles and hymnbooks, the terrified men and women scrambled for escape. Their struggles proved to be for naught, as one by one they were overcome and dragged away to an open field with a number of stakes driven into the ground._

_Each captive was bound securely to a stake and doused with some liquid. As Jane watched in horror, a man holding a torch walked down the row and set each one on fire. The figures writhed and screamed in agony as their skin began to blacken. Jane's screams joined theirs, and she felt a hand cover her mouth..._

...and her eyes flew open to gaze at the familiar surroundings of the attic, and she realized that the hand covering her mouth was Guilford's. Seeing that she was awake, he lowered his hand and looked at her with dark brown eyes full of love and anxious concern.

"It...was terrible...people were being burned alive...people just like us...our own countrymen..." Jane could hardly get the words out.

"Shh, there, there, it was only a dream, my love." Guilford took her into his arms and held her tightly as she sobbed. "It's all right now, darling. I'm right here." Lovingly, he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead.

A moment later Suzanne appeared, her face soft with concern.

"It's all right," Guilford told her. "Jane just had a bad dream."

Suzanne's eyes were full of sympathy. "Ma cherie." She patted Jane's arm and kissed her cheek. Jane, unused to such displays of affection from nonfamily members, blushed slightly.

"Guilford, I fear that my cousin Mary will stop at nothing to prevent the spread of the true faith. I fear for the immortal souls of our countrymen. They will be forced to chose between a horrible death or eternal separation from God."

"I know, my love." Guilford sighed heavily. He knew that his wife's dream had likely foreshadowed true events, and it sickened him.

"The worst thing is that there is nothing that we can do about it," Jane said desolately.

"Yes, there is, Jane. We can be patient and trust God. He knows best, and his will shall prevail."

They held one another, each taking comfort in the other's presence.

* * *

><p>As she faithfully crossed each day off as it passed, Jane realized that if not for the calendar, the absolute monotony of life in the attic would make it seem as if the passage of time were but an illusion. The one break in the routine was the weekly church service, which Jane enjoyed very much, despite the risk it entailed.<p>

One morning in June, Jane awakened to discover that she felt...different. Normally ravenous upon awakening, she found that even the thought of food made her feel nauseous.

"You can have my share of breakfast," she told Guilford. "I'm not very hungry."

"I'll save it for you in case you get hungry later," he replied.

Jane felt slightly better later in the day and was able to eat a small amount, which greatly relieved Guilford, as he realized that to summon a physician was out of the question.

The same thing happened the following morning, and every morning after it for the rest of the week.

"It's a peculiar sickness that seems to cause you to feel ill only in the morning," Guilford observed. "You seem to have no other symptoms, save your increased need for sleep of late."

It was true. Jane did seem to be very drowsy much of the time, much more so than before.

One morning, Jane lay wide awake in bed, staring at the roof of the attic by the scant sunlight afforded her. Her breasts felt strange, full and heavy, with a tingling sensation at the nipples. Absentmindedly, she gently squeezed her right nipple and felt a small drop of moisture appear. And she knew.

Glancing at Guilford sleeping peacefully beside her, she decided to wait until he awakened to tell him.

"I am with child, Guilford." The words were out of her mouth as soon as she saw that he was awake.

His eyes widened with surprise. "Are you sure?"

Jane nodded. "I haven't bled since the first week of May. I normally would have bled the first week of this month as well, but I never did. That's the first time that's ever happened to me."

Guilford's face registered amazement, then delight.

"My Jane." He took her into his arms and held her gently. "It never occurred to me that we may be creating a new life while hiding in this attic. My only hope was to survive from day to day, and to show you how much I love you."

"But what kind of life can our child hope to have?" Jane asked mournfully. "To spend every waking hour in the confines of this attic, never to feel the sun shine on its face, never to run barefoot through the grass or drink from a clear stream..."

"Jane, Jane." Guilford embraced her. "The life we live now we will not live forever. One day we will be free to return to our beloved England, free to roam the fields and climb the hills once again."

"Do you remember the boat? I sat with my bare feet hanging over the front. Those were such good times, and now they seem so long ago. An eternity ago."

"We will sail that boat again some day, Jane, with our child."

Jane was silent.

"Remember what I told you so long ago, Jane? You and I are two sides of the same coin."

"I am intelligence and you are courage." She smiled bravely.

"Don't you ever forget it." He grinned back at her, and suddenly everything was all right.


	5. Tragedy

As the days became longer, Jane's nausea and lethargy subsided, and by late summer, she had developed a voracious appetite. She was always careful to leave enough food for Guilford, but he could tell that she wasn't quite satisfied after each meal. He always offered her some of his share of the meal, but she always declined.

One evening in late September, Jane was startled to feel a faint movement from deep inside her belly. It made her think of the feeble movement of a baby bird's wing. A moment later she realized what it was, and a wave of excitement washed over her.

"Guildford! I can feel our child's movements now!" Jane placed her husband's hand on her belly, and a moment later, the slight flutter happened again. Guilford's eyes widened, and a look of awe came over his face.

"So, little one, you have at last chosen to make your presence known," he said, patting Jane's belly.

A few nights later, Guilford heard Jane crying softly in the middle of the night.

"What is it, my love?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to awaken you." Jane looked up at him with eyes full of tears, and he was alarmed.

"Never mind that. What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

"Oh, no, not at all. It's just that I feel...so hungry."

"Hungry?" Guilford laughed softly. "Is that all? Well, then, I shall find you something to eat."

"How?"

"There's more than one way out of this attic." Guilford moved a piece of the attic's roof. "I shall climb down the drainpipe and return the same way again."

"Oh, Guilford, no! That's far too dangerous! What if you should fall? It would break your neck!"

"I'll be very careful. That I promise."

Jane still looked doubtful, but Guilford grinned at her. "I'm the lion on the other side of the coin, remember?"

"I'd say 'foolhardy' is more like it."

Guilford feigned annoyance, then laughed. He kissed her cheek, stepped outside the attic, and disappeared down the side of the house.

Jane listened for the sound of his fall, and was relieved when it never came. She had almost dozed off again when he returned carrying a small bag.

"Mission accomplished!" he announced. "Although I'm sorry it isn't more. I dared not linger for fear of being discovered."

Jane reached into the bag he offered her and took out several small, round, white wafers.

"Why, they look just like..."

"That's exactly what they are."

Jane gasped with shock. "Guilford, you _didn't!"_

"There's a church only a couple of houses up from this one. Luckily, the door was unlocked so I didn't have to try a window."

Jane simply stared at him, unable to say a word.

"Please eat, Jane. I can't bear to see you suffer from hunger. They are, after all, simply wafers made of flour and water, nothing more. You know that as well as I do."

A distant memory suddenly returned to Jane.

_So God made you, but the baker made God?_

Jane had to quickly bury her face in a pillow to keep from bursting out laughing as Guilford watched her with a bemused smile.

"What is it? What's so funny?"

Jane, unable to speak, only shook her head as tears of merriment filled her eyes.

Guilford concluded that he would simply never understand the ways of women, especially those who were with child.

* * *

><p>Jane's merriment didn't last long at all, as soon afterwards Suzanne visited them with upsetting news.<p>

"Gaston was captured on his way home from our last church service," she told them. "He's now in prison. They will try to break him, to force him to part from the true faith and embrace Catholicism once again. We must pray that God will grant him the fortitude to resist their persecution."

"We will no longer be able to hold our church services here in this attic anymore, due to the increased danger. Henri and Simone have volunteered their own attic for the weekly service, so it will be held there from now on."

"I shall miss the others," Jane told Guilford after Suzanne had left. "I always so looked forward to the church service every week, and now that comfort has been taken from us."

"Please don't despair, Jane. We can still have our own church service right here, just the two of us. I daresay your own knowledge of scripture at least compares to that of Gaston, and surpasses it perhaps. At any rate, it certainly supasses mine." He chuckled ruefully.

"Oh, but you've proven to be such a fast learner, Guilford."

"As have you, my lady."

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

Guilford glanced at her rounded belly and grinned mischievously at her. Jane giggled and blushed slightly. She realized that he was attempting to lift her spirits, and although it was only momentarily successful, she still appreciated the effort.

That night Jane and Guilford sat facing one another, their hands clasped firmly together.

"Dear Lord, please help our brother Gaston to stand firm in the faith to the end," Jane prayed. "Help him to resist those in power as they try to break him. Help him to stay strong and remain true even in the face of death. We ask this in Your precious name, Jesus. Amen."

"Amen," echoed Guilford.

The next visit from Suzanne brought devastating news.

"Our dear Gaston is in the sheltering arms of our Lord and Saviour now," she told them between sobs. "They tried to get him to submit to the authority of the Pope. He refused. They tried to get him to take communion with a Catholic priest, to accept the doctine of transubstantiation."

Jane's eyes met Guilford's, but there was not a trace of merriment in them this time.

"He refused. They tried to get him to denounce our church fathers Martin Luther and John Calvin as heretics. He refused. They put him on the wheel and tortured him until he died. His last words were, 'Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit'."

"The final words of our Saviour as he died upon the cross for our sins," Jane whispered.

Suzanne sobbed disconsolately, and Jane, near tears herself, embraced her. It was then that Jane realized that what she had suspected for weeks was indeed true. Suzanne was with child as well.


	6. A Year Ago Today

Jane's eyes were lifted up toward the attic's roof, but she didn't see what she was looking at at all. Instead, she saw sea gulls soaring high above the Thames. "The soul takes flight to the world that is eternal...invisible. But there arriving, it is sure of bliss, and forever dwells in Paradise." An image came unbidden to Jane; it was of Guilford, her Guilford, kneeling before a block, his head aligned over the far edge of the block, his arms straight out at his sides. Beside the block, a man wearing a black mask raised an axe. Jane struggled desperately to force the image from her mind. Big tears filled her eyes and began to stream down her face as Guilford held her tightly to himself and she rested her head against his chest and listened to the reassuring beat of his heart.

An air of funereal gloom permeated the attic for the rest of that day. Guilford and Jane went about their usual business quietly, saying only necessary words to one another. Their hearts were heavy with sorrow for the loss of their friend and mentor.

Suzanne, now aware that Jane was with child, increased the amount of food she took to the attic each day. Her eyes had a haunted look, and Jane could tell that she spent much time crying for her fallen friend.

"It distresses me greatly to see you in such sorrow," Jane told her one day. "I fear for the welfare of your child."

"As do I for yours," Suzanne replied. "How I wish there was a physician amongst my friends."

"Even if there were, it would be a great risk to bring him here," Jane replied. "It troubles me already that we are so beholden to you."

"As if says in the Bible, 'For somuch as ye have done to the least of these, so have ye done unto me'," Suzanne replied.

"Your reward in the life to come will surely be great," Jane told her.

"I already have a great reward in this life. It is the comfort of knowing that I have helped to save two innocent souls from martyrdom."

* * *

><p>October and November came and went. Jane's midsection grew larger and larger, and her child's movements grew stronger and stronger. By December she was forced to eat small amounts of food at a time, and she began to have frequent backaches. Much of her time was spent lying on her side with Guilford rubbing her back, which helped tremendously but didn't completely stop the discomfort.<p>

"Why, tomorrow is Christmas Day," Jane said to Guilford one evening while marking off the date on the calendar.

"So it is, although to us it won't seem so," Guilford replied.

Although in the comfort of Guilford's arms, Jane missed her sisters and even her mother bitterly the following day, and although he didn't complain, she could tell that Guilford missed his family as well.

"This is mother's first Christmas without father or me," Guilford remarked.

"It is my mother's first Christmas without my father as well," Jane said. She didn't even mention herself as she felt that her mother had never loved her very much. "We shall write letters to them to tell them how much we love and miss them."

"There is no way of delivering letters from here," Guilford pointed out.

"Still they shall lift up our spirits, and if God is willing that we should ever leave this place, we may deliver them then."

So Guilford wrote a loving letter to his mother, and Jane to her sister Katherine. They hoped that the day would come that the letters would find their way to their intended recipents.

In January, Pierre and Suzanne's son, Gaston, was born. Jane listened from the attic to the young woman's cries and prayed that things would go well for her and her baby. Eventually she heard a lusty cry from the newborn and thanked God that it was alive. A few hours later, Pierre proudly brought his new son into the attic to meet Guilford and Jane. Jane marveled at the infant's tiny, yet perfect, features.

"It makes me thrill at the prospect of holding my own newborn soon," she said.

Guilford smiled, remembering Jane's trepidation when she had first realized that she was pregnant. He was so glad that she felt better about it now.

Several weeks after Gaston's birth, Jane suffered the most severe backache she had ever had in her life. It was unusual in that rather than being constantly present, it seemed to come and go at regular intervals, and soon the intermitten pain involved her entire lower abdomen. As the hours passed, the pains became more intense and closer together.

"Guilford, I believe our child will be here soon."

"Are you sure?"

"I am certain of it." Guilford heard the panic in his wife's voice. "What do I do?"

Guilford arranged the pillows and quilts in the attic to provide as comfortable a bed for her as possible and helped her to lie down. He found a piece of rope for her to bite down on, so as not to injure her teeth when the pains became unbearable. He sat beside her and rubbed her back and spoke soothingly to her.

"It's going to be all right, my love. The pain will be over soon, and our babe will be in your arms. I love you so much, dear Jane." Jane was in too much pain to respond, but his words brought great comfort to her.

At last Guilford saw her grimace and strain, and he knew that the moment was at hand. He moved her legs so that there would be room for the baby to come out and helped her to sit up to allow gravity to help her push.

"The baby's head is out now, Jane. Just a little bit more and it will all be over." Jane gathered up all her strength for one more mighty push and felt the baby's body slide from her own. Guilford caught the newborn, used a knife to cut the cord, and began to clean the baby, speaking to it gently the whole time. The infant cried a little, but soon quieted.

Jane saw Guilford glance between the baby's legs, and a big grin lit up his entire face. Overwhelmed with relief, Jane let out the breath she hadn't even known she was holding.

"Is he...all right?" At last she was able to speak.

"_She _is absolutely perfect! I'll let you hold her just as soon as I finish cleaning her up."

Jane was stunned. "You mean..."

"Yes, Jane. We have a beautiful new daughter." Guilford had finished cleaning the baby, and he wrapped her in a blanket and laid her tenderly into Jane's arms.

"Are you not disappointed that your firstborn isn't a son?"

"No, not at all." Guildford's voice was soft, and there was great love in his eyes. "Oh, Jane, were you afraid that I would be?"

Jane's eyes filled with tears as Guilford embraced her and kissed the top of her head. Jane looked into her daughter's smoky dark blue eyes and thought that she had never before loved Guilford as much she did just then.

Guilford began to clean Jane just as tenderly as he had cleaned the baby. "I need to wash away as much of the blood as I can. I don't want you to become ill, Jane." He didn't tell her of all the stories he had heard of women who had survived the birth itself only to sicken and die very shortly afterwards.

The cool water and Guilford's gentle touch were soothing to Jane's bruised and torn flesh. She closed her eyes and simply enjoyed the sensation when a sudden thought jarred her.

"Do you realize what day it is today, Guilford?"

"Why, it's Sunday, I believe." Guilford looked at her questioningly.

"Today is February 12, 1555. It was exactly a year ago today that we both were to have lost our heads, and indeed would have if not for the benevolence of our friends."

Guilford's face paled.

"I would like to name our daughter Grace, if that's all right with you," Jane said softly.

"Yes, I think that's the perfect name for her," Guilford agreed, his voice quivering. He put his arm around Jane and held her close, and in the attic that was both prison and refuge to them, Guilford's and Jane's hearts were filled with thanksgiving and love.


	7. Going Home

**November 1558**

"Important news has arrived from England," Suzanne announced one morning. "She who desired your death is no more."

"My cousin has passed?" Jane was shocked. "What on earth happened?"

"England has suffered an influenza epidemic," Suzanne said.

"What of Philip?" asked Guilford.

"He has returned to Spain."

"We are free at last, my love!" Guilford exclaimed joyfully.

Jane frowned at him. "Her death is no cause for celebration. She must now answer to God for her deeds whilst on earth."

"Jane, I do believe that you would feel pity for the devil himself," Guilford said, but his countenance did become much more sober.

Guilford and Jane soon came to love the seashore town of Calais. Hand in hand, they strolled along the beach soaking in the sun's rays and inhaling the fresh air that had been denied them for so long.

Grace was almost four now, and Temperance, named for Guilford's younger sister who had died of the sweating sickness in 1552, was about a year and a half. Guilford loved to hold each little girl high in the air in turn and listen to her squeals of delight. He and Jane made sand castles with Grace while Temperance, too small to help, grabbed handfuls of sand and threw them as far as she could with whoops of joy.

Their skin lost its deathly pallor, and they developed healthy tans. There were also joyful reunions with Andre, Pauline, Henri, Simone, and their children.

"Persecution here has become too great for us," Henri announced one day. "With Elizabeth now on the throne, we would be free to practice the true faith in England. We shall leave soon."

"We're going home!" Guilford cried joyfully, lifting Jane and twirling her around while Grace and Temperance giggled.

"But where shall we go?" Jane asked when Guilford set her back down again. "We no longer have a home, I quake at the very thought of returning to the Tower, and I greatly fear the consequences to yourselves if your having rescued us from execution ever comes to light."

"You shall return as one of us, and live amongst us," Suzanne said. "You speak our language perfectly, with no trace of an English accent. No one will question your presence amongst us, and from now on, you will be known as Guillaume and Jeanne DuBois."

"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Madame DuBois," Guilford said to Jane, bowing deeply before her. Jane giggled. Although she wondered whether the ruse would really succeed, and if so, for how long, she realized that it was probably the best option available.

Guilford and Jane's second trip across the English Channel, this one in broad daylight, was a radically different experience from the previous one. Grace, excited to be experiencing her very first boat ride, cheered, shouted, and likely would have tumbled right over the side of the boat if not for her father's restraint. Temperance, by nature more bashful and timid than her sister, clung tightly to Jane and gazed out at the water with large, worried brown eyes.

When the white cliffs of Dover came into view, Jane, overcome with emotion, felt big tears fill her eyes and flow down her cheeks.

"Why are you crying, Mummy?" asked Grace.

"This is my first sight of my homeland in almost five years," Jane told her. "That's a year longer than you've been alive, Grace. Your daddy and I were born in England, and we're both just so happy to finally be going back there."

Although thrilled to be back in the country of her birth, Jane was hesitant to gaze upon the green countryside from the carriage out of fear that her eyes might chance upon a stake with a blackened body bound to it that had been left as a silent warning. To her immense relief, there were none.

The little group settled in Spitalfields in the East End of London, and Guilford became a weaver of silk, as were Pierre, Andre, and Henri. Jane was so happy to be able to attend church in daylight on Sunday with the others that she didn't mind at all that the sermons were in French rather than English. She loved the language anyway.

As Guilford and Jane adjusted to life in Spitalfields, their years in the attic became merely a distant memory. Although their present life of relative poverty differed vastly from their upbringings of priviledge, they accepted their lot as God's will and rejoiced in the love of their friends and the happiness their children brought them.


	8. Twist Of Fate

_A/N: Bartolomeo Taliaferro was an actual person and he was one of my direct ancestors. :)_

Following the births of Grace and Temperance, the family grew to include Robert, Katherine, and Ambrose. There were also Edward, who lived but six months, Mary, who was stillborn, and John, who was also stillborn. The last stillbirth nearly cost Jane her own life as well, as she bled profusely after the delivery of the dead child.

Guilford's eyes were full as tears as he held Jane's hand and watched her life slip away. Jane had seen such tears once before, when she and Guilford had said what they had thought to be their final good-byes to one another on that cold February morning in the Tower.

"Wait for me just inside the gate, dearest. I shan't be long," Guilford whispered.

By some miracle, however, the bleeding slowed and finally stopped, and Jane slept the sleep of the physically and emotionally spent as Guilford, sobbing quietly, tenderly wrapped the tiny body in a piece of cloth and, with a heavy heart, went to dig a third tiny grave beside the other two.

"I am not willing that you should ever be with child again," Guilford told Jane during her slow recovery from the experience. When they resumed marital relations, he refused to ejaculate inside her, instead ending the act prematurely so that none of his seed entered her body.

"Do you not worry that what we do might displease God?" Jane asked him the first time he had done thus.

"My mother gave birth to thirteen children and buried five of them before their first birthday. I don't want you to suffer as she did. Besides, I have just nearly lost you as well. We have five living children who need their mother very much, not even to mention how much _I _need you. Surely, God will understand."

Jane prayed that he was right, for in truth, the possible consequences of another pregnancy and delivery frightened her nearly as much as they did Guilford.

* * *

><p>Tall and slender like her father, and with her mother's dark hair and eyes, Grace Dudley at sixteen was a real beauty. One day she was returning home with a basket of apples when her youngest brother, Ambrose, ran up to meet her.<p>

"May I have one, Grace? Please?"

"No, you may not! Mother is going to make a pie, and besides, at this hour, it will spoil your appetite."

Grinning cheekily at her, Ambrose quickly swiped an apple and took off as fast as he could run in the opposite direction.

"Ambrose Dudley! You come back here right this minute!"

Grace soon discovered the difficulty of running while holding a basket of apples and was forced to take the fruit inside the house before continuing to chase her brother, which of course gave Ambrose a significant head start. Heading in the direction in which she had seen him flee, Grace ran calling his name, soon having to slow to a brisk walk.

The sun changed position in the sky, and Grace became frantic as she realized how much time must have passed. She also noticed with alarm that she was now in London's West End.

Suddenly she heard her own name being called and turned to see Ambrose, still holding the half-eaten apple, perched in a carriage driven by a dark-haired, swarthy man. The man was slightly built, with hair and eyes that were nearly black. He looked southern European, Italian or Greek, perhaps.

"Does this young cherub belong to you?" he asked Grace in a voice that held just a trace of a foreign accent. "I found him in the bed of my carriage. He had cried himself to sleep there."

"He's my brother, sir." She glared at Ambrose, who hastened down from the carriage. "What a naughty boy you've been, stealing an apple and running away!"

"You won't tell, will you, Grace? Please? Father will surely whip me if you do." An icy glare was the only reply he received, although Grace, at the sight of the dried tear stains on her brother's grimy face, secretly hoped that their father would show mercy on the errant youngster.

Grace turned back to the man in the carriage.

"I'm truly sorry, Mr..."

"Bartolomeo Taliaferro, violinist of the Band of Gentlemen Musicians for Her Majesty the Queen, my lady. And you are..."

"Grace DuBois of the Spitalsfield Huguenots, and I do so love violin music!"

"You're perfectly welcome to visit me at court any time you desire, my lady. Tell them Bartolomeo Taliaferro sent you, and you shan't have any problem. Good day, my lady."

"Thank you very much, sir." Heart pounding with excitement, Grace grabbed Ambrose by the hand and practically dragged him home, over loud protests that she was hurting his arm.

* * *

><p>Many other young women of Grace's age and station would surely have been intimidated upon their first visit to the royal court. Grace was merely intrigued, looking about with wide eyes and paying careful attention to all of the goings-on.<p>

Grace enjoyed the performance of the Band of Gentlemen Musicians very much, and told them so. Bartolomeo Taliaferro was kind enough to visit with her afterwards, inquiring about the well-being of her family and telling her his own story of having been born in Italy and immigrating to England, about how he had always loved to play the violin and had learned to do so at a very young age.

"Thank you so much for visiting," he told Grace as she prepared to return home. "Come back any time you want." She thanked him and turned to go.

Grace would later come to believe that Providence was to thank for what happened next. A smartly-dressed man with a moustache and goatee arrived at court and nodded hello to Bartolomeo in passing.

"Who is he?" Grace whispered after the man had passed.

"Why, he's Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester and close friend and confidant of Her Majesty the Queen, undoubtedly just now returning from the stables."

For Grace, it was just as if she had been grabbed by the shoulders and shaken roughly. She eagerly studied Robert's face, searching for resemblances to her father's. They were slight but unmistakable.

"Oh! I must meet him!" Grace exclaimed.

Bartolomeo gave her a puzzled look. Grace thought quickly.

"One of the Dudleys immigrated to France many years ago and married into the DuBois family, so we are distantly related to them." Surely God would understand and forgive her for the lie.

"This is Grace DuBois of the Spitalsfield Huguenots. She says that she has family ties to the Dudleys and so wanted to meet you," Bartolomeo told Robert after gaining his attention.

"Family ties, you say. Indeed. Very well, then. My pleasure, my lady." Robert kissed the hand Grace held out to him.

Tears of disappointment stung Grace's eyes as he turned away. Although, she asked herself, what had she expected? Instant recognition? If so, then she had been a fool.

Yet the pleading look in the girl's eyes had indeed given Robert pause. There had also been something about the girl's manner, her poise, that told him that she was no commoner. In addition, there was a vague familiarity about her face that caused Robert to speculate that she may indeed have family ties to him that could be much closer than Bartolomeo had led him to believe.

"My lady..."

Startled, Grace turned to face Robert again.

"Even with your dark hair and eyes, you look more English than French to me."

Grace said nothing, continuing to look at him expectantly.

"You _are _English, aren't you?"

Grace nodded slowly.

"Who _are _you, really?"

"I am Grace Dudley, eldest daughter of Guilford and Jane Dudley, sir." Grace's voice was perfectly calm and unwavering.

Robert stared at her in shocked disbelief, then reached to embrace her. Grace hugged him back, tentatively at first, then with more confidence.

"Let me look at you, child. I scarce can believe that you are real."

Grace suddenly felt very shy, a feeling that was almost completely foreign to her.

"Tell me, does my brother yet live?"

"He's alive and well, and would send you his love if he could, sir."

"They were innocents, barely more than children. None of it was their fault." Robert's voice was soft, and his eyes looked a million miles away.

"I was imprisoned with him in the Tower, you know. All four of us were. Our father was executed."

"I know, sir, and I'm so very sorry to have brought back such painful memories to you."

"Oh no, please don't be. I had long ago given up all hope of ever seeing my younger brother again in this life. It never even occurred to me that he may have offspring. How many younger sisters have you?"

"Two, and also two younger brothers. Their names are Temperance, Robert, Katherine, and Ambrose."

"Robert?"

"He was named for you, sir."

Robert looked pleased.

"Ambrose...Katherine...Temperance, even...so, the grandchildren of the Duke and Duchess of Northumberland live in squalor?"

"Oh, no, sir," Grace said quickly. "We are all very well provided for, and want for nothing. Father is a weaver of silk."

Robert looked very sad, and a little angry.

"So, my brother has been weaving silk in the East End for these past seventeen years?"

"Oh, no, sir. We lived in Calais, France until it was safe for us to return to England. My sister Temperance and I were conceived and born in an attic there."

"Indeed." Robert's eyes widened with surprise. "Come, you must tell me all."

* * *

><p>Queen Elizabeth I saw the tall, dark-haired beauty on Robert's arm and wondered whether she was a new dalliance. Looking at the girl more closely, Elizabeth realized that she was but sixteen or seventeen years of age at the most, young enough to be Robert's daughter. As she bore a close enough physical resemblance to Robert to easily pass for his daughter, Elizabeth began to wonder whether that was indeed the case. If so, it seemed strange and more than a little hurtful to her that, close as she and Robert had always been, he had never mentioned the fact to her. Sixteen or seventeen years was a long time to keep a secret, especially one of that magnitude. Although, realizing how Robert felt about her, she could easily understand how he would have felt very awkward about bringing up such a subject to her. She wondered who the girl's mother was and felt a pang of jealousy. In some ways, it was so very difficult to be Queen...<p>

Suddenly she wanted to tell him that it was all right, that she certainly understood how such things could happen. After all, her own father, the King, had had a bastard son himself, her half brother Henry Fitzroy.

As it turned out, she never got the chance, nor did it prove necessary, as the young woman was still in Robert's company the next time he approached her. Robert looked happier than Elizabeth had seen him in a very long time. He certainly didn't look like a man about to introduce his bastard daughter to the woman he loved.

"This is Grace Dudley, Your Majesty. She is close blood kin to us both, as she is not only my niece but also your cousin."

"Your Majesty." Grace curtsied deeply.

Realizing the implications of Robert's words, Elizabeth embraced Grace almost as tightly as Robert had.

"My dear little cousin Jane! Does she yet live?"

"She's alive and well, and would send you her love if she could, Your Majesty."

"I was always very fond of her. It broke my heart when I learned what her fate was to be. She was always so devout, so committed to the true faith, willing to lay down her life for its sake, if need be. I admired her so much."

"They now dwell in Spitalsfield." Robert could barely keep the disgust out of his voice.

"Spitalsfield? How on earth did they end up there?"

Grace told her the whole story. When she was finished, Elizabeth looked as if she couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. In the end she did neither. Instead she gently took Grace's hand in both her own and looked earnestly into the girl's eyes.

"My dear child, if there's anything at all that I can do to help..."

"Your Majesty, during my mother's brief reign, she conferred upon my father the title Duke of Clarence. If it please Your Majesty, my father would like to have his title back, and, if it please Your Majesty, my parents would like to be allowed to return to the home that was theirs when first they were married. My mother told me all about it. There were horses, and a stream with a little rowboat, and they were both so very happy together there before...before..."

Grace's throat constricted and she wasn't able to finish the sentence. Immediately, Robert's arms were around her, and he held her as she sobbed.


	9. Dreams Do Come True

**1571**

It was a bright, sunny day in July, not a cloud in sight, when the Duke and Duchess of Clarence, accompanied by their five children, finally returned to the home that had been their own for such a brief period of time eighteen years previously.

"I simply can't believe that, after all this time, we're finally going home." Jane gazed about in wonder at the beauty of the countryside.

"So, is being a duchess preferable to being a queen?" asked Guilford.

"Most definitely!" Both of them laughed heartily.

"Will there be horses there, Father?" asked Robert.

"I daresay there will be."

"Uncle Robert said he's going to teach me everything he knows about horses. I'm going to be a Master of the Horses too when I grow up." Robert had already formed a special bond with his namesake uncle.

"Father, what was our Aunt Temperance like?" asked Temperance.

"I can scarce remember her, she was so young when she died. From what I do recall about her, she was much like you, quiet, well-behaved, and polite."

"What about our Aunt Katherine?" asked Katherine.

"Which one? You have two Aunt Katherines, one on your father's side and one on my side," Jane told her.

"Why are there so many Katherines in our family?" asked Ambrose.

"Only two. That's not so many," said Katherine.

"You have an Aunt Mary on each side as well," Jane said with a smile.

"And there's only one other Ambrose, besides me."

"I don't think the world could handle another one," Guilford teased him. Everyone laughed except the young man in question, who tried his best to assume an air of indignity.

"Were you named for someone, Mother?" asked Katherine.

"I was named for Jane Seymour. She was the mother of my dear cousin, His Majesty King Edward."

"Why did he die so young?"

"He was ill with consumption. Look, Ambrose, that bird is exactly the same shade of blue as your shirt is." Jane didn't want to dwell on sad subjects on such a beautiful day.

"Were you named for someone, Father?" asked Robert.

"My first name was my mother's last name before she got married."

"But how could it be both a first name and a last name?"

"Some names are just like that. Look, we're finally here!" Guilford quickly jumped down from the carriage and helped Jane and the children down.

"I had forgotten how beautiful it all was," Jane sighed, bending to touch the wildflowers. "Oh, Guilford, did you ever in your wildest dreams imagine that we would ever be able to return? What a kind, gracious Queen we have!"

"As well as a very brave and clever daughter. She has certainly lived up to the name we gave her, and many times over. To say that I'm proud of her would be an understatement." He hugged Grace, who smiled and blushed.

"Which way is the stable?" asked Robert.

They all rode horses for a couple of hours, and then the children went exploring as Jane and Guilford ran hand in hand toward the stream, wondering whether or not the rowboat was still there. To their great delight, it was, and remarkably well preserved for its age.

For Guilford and Jane, still only in their mid thirties, time seemed to have reversed itself, making them teenage newlyweds once more. Guilford helped Jane into the boat, then climbed in himself.

"I told you we would sail this boat again someday," Guilford whispered.

"So you did. I dared not believe you at the time."

"You'll heed my words from hence, won't you, my lady?"

They laughed together, then kissed.

They were just bringing the boat back to shore when Ambrose appeared, followed by Robert. Ambrose's hands were cupped in front of him, and big tears welled in his blue eyes and rolled down his freckled cheeks.

"He threw rocks at a bird's nest and knocked it out of a tree. One of the eggs broke open, and there was a baby bird in it still alive," explained Robert.

"He was throwing rocks too!" Ambrose glared at his brother.

"I was not!" Robert protested loudly.

"Let me see." Jane examined the tiny bird in Ambrose's hands. It was very frail and weak, and Jane saw it gasping for breath.

"It will be all right, sweetheart." Jane hugged Ambrose and kissed the top of his head. "We shall make a tiny bed for it to sleep in until it gets bigger and stronger."

She found a tiny box that had once held a necklace and lined it with cotton and bits of cloth, then gently placed the baby bird inside it.

The boys returned to their play, and Guilford and Jane strolled in the fields of waving grass. After eighteen years, their memories had dimmed somewhat.

"I think it might have been right here," Jane finally said. She lay down in the grass, and Guilford traced his fingers through her long brown hair, stretching each strand out its entire length so that her head was framed with a soft brown halo.

"You're just as beautiful as ever, if not more so," Guilford told her. She watched the wind gently lift his blond locks and noticed the fine lines at the corners of his eyes that hadn't been there eighteen years before but only enhanced his attractiveness to her. Then she closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face.

It was much later that the evening cooled and the family went back inside. Ambrose immediately rushed to the tiny box holding the baby bird, peeked inside, and burst into tears.

"I killed it," he sobbed.

"It's only a bird," scoffed Robert, who was saved from being struck by his brother only by Grace quickly stepping between the two boys.

"We shall give it a funeral," she said in an effort to comfort her distraught brother.

The family went outside once again, and Guilford dug a small grave in the garden.

"Say something from the Bible, Father," said Ambrose, still sniffling a bit.

"Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall to the ground without your Father. Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows," said Guilford. Ambrose looked up at his father with admiring eyes.

"I almost don't want this day to end," Jane said later, as they were preparing for bed. Just then, they heard a soft knock on the door.

"Appearently it hasn't yet," Guilford commented wryly.

When Jane opened the door, she saw Ambrose standing there, crying.

"Mummy, I really am sorry that I killed that little bird. Is God angry with me?"

"He isn't pleased, but He understands that you didn't mean to do it, and He's glad that you're sorry for what you did."

"Is the bird in heaven now?"

"That's exactly where he is, and he's all healthy and strong and happy now."

Ambrose looked immensely relieved.

"You're an amazing mother," Guildford said softly to Jane after Ambrose had left.

"Every time I look at Ambrose, I can't believe how remarkably like his father he is," Jane said, in an equally soft voice.

"And just what do you mean by that, my lady?" Guilford's eyebrows arched.

"He may have a somewhat rowdy exterior, but underneath he has a very tender heart."

Guilford lifted Jane up onto the bed and climbed up beside her himself. Then he lay down on his back and pulled her over onto his body.

"So, dear Jane, what do you want?"

"I want you to make love to me on this bed just like you did eighteen years ago."

"As you wish, my lady."

Afterwards they lay together looking up at the ceiling and holding hands just as they had all those years before.

"Remember our first time?" Jane asked.

"I'll never forget how relieved you were to discover that I hadn't been the rover you'd imagined me to have been. Not that I hadn't tried to be, of course."

"I...was first."

"As you'll be last, and all the ones in between as well. I swear to you, Jane, I haven't visited a tavern nor a brothel in eighteen years, nor have I even wanted to."

"I know." She turned to run her finger down the side of his face.

Guilford raised himself on one elbow. "When was it that you first realized that you loved me, Jane?"

"When I saw you being kind to the men who had been branded for begging. That was when I realized how wrong my first impressions of you had been."

Guilford smiled lazily, twirling a lock of her hair on his finger.

"When did you first realize that you loved me?" she asked.

"I truly believe that I loved you from the moment I first saw you, dear Jane."

"But I was so cold to you at first, Guilford."

"I knew that you were only angry at being forced to marry against your will. I wasn't given a choice either, Jane."

"My mother had beaten me. I still had the stripes of the whip on my body when I wed you." Her eyes moistened with the memory.

"I'm so very sorry, my love. I only wish there were something I could do to put it right." Guilford showered her face with kisses.

"You already have, dear Guilford, that and many times over. No one could ask for a kinder or more loving husband. I thank God every day that she made me marry you."

"As do I, scoundrel that I am."


	10. Yet Often At A Cost

"Grace is such a lovely girl," the Queen said to Jane one day. "How old is she?"

"She turned sixteen last February, Your Majesty."

"We must find her a suitable husband soon. It's not a day too early. I was just thinking what an excellent prospect the younger Henry Carey would be for her. As you know, his grandmother was Mary Boleyn, my own dear mother's sister." Elizabeth had only the vaguest memories of her mother and treasured them dearly.

"I truly appreciate your concern for Grace's welfare," Jane said. "I will talk to her about Henry, but I won't force her. I know what it is to be forced. Grace will not marry unless it's what she genuinely wants."

Elizabeth placed a comforting hand on Jane's arm. "I know how much you love Grace, and how determined you are not to see her subjected to the same trauma you yourself once suffered. My dear cousin, you must try to set your feelings aside and think about what's best for Grace. You know yourself how vitally important it is for a young woman in her position to marry the right man."

* * *

><p>"I do believe you have said less than ten words for the entire evening. That's not like you at all." Guilford went to his wife and hugged her from behind. "Of what are you thinking, my love?"<p>

"Her Majesty has proposed a marriage between our Grace and the younger Henry Carey."

"That sounds like an excellent idea to me. That whole family is strong in the true faith, and it would form a stronger bond with Her Majesty's mother's own family, the Boleyns. Why do you look so sad?"

"It's only that I wouldn't want Grace to feel pressured. If she is to marry, it should be of her own free choice."

"Of course, darling," Guilford said soothingly. "But as you know, we must think of her future. She's not a little girl anymore, much as she may still seem so to you and me at times."

* * *

><p>"If it will make Her Majesty happy, then I will do it," Grace told her mother. "After all, if it weren't for her, we would still be living in Spitalsfield pretending to be Huguenots."<p>

"As important as it is for Her Majesty to be happy, to me it's even more important for _you _to be happy, Grace. That's why I want this to be entirely your own decision. I would never force you to marry as my own mother forced me to."

"What?" Grace was shocked.

"Though I love him dearly now, I at first didn't want to marry your father. My mother, your grandmother, beat me."

"Oh no, mother!" Grace went to Jane and embraced her tightly.

"You have often wondered why my own mother and I were never close as you and I are. She always resented the fact that it was my brother, rather than me, who died in infancy. No matter what I did, I could never please her. Although I was very well provided for materially, I was never shown much love. I always promised myself that if I should ever have children of my own, I would never let them forget how much I loved them."

"Oh, mother." Tears were in Grace's eyes.

"That's why I don't want you to agree to marry Henry unless it's what you truly want."

"Have you discussed this with Father?"

"I have, and he thinks it's an excellent idea but agrees with me that you won't be forced."

"If it will make Her Majesty and Father happy, then it will make me happy as well, Mother. I will marry him."

"Wouldn't you at least like to meet him first?"

"But of course I would!"

* * *

><p>Grace could see Henry standing in the courtyard as she entered. To her relief, he was quite nice looking, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and a pleasant smile. She was also pleased to see that he was a bit taller than she was.<p>

"My lady." Henry bowed deeply to her, and she curtsied.

For once, Grace was completely tongue-tied. In the presence of the man who would be her husband in less than twenty-four hours, she suddenly couldn't think of a thing to say. As it turned out, she needn't have worried.

"I'm so very pleased to meet you," Henry said. "All of us have been curious for ever so long. Whatever was it like?"

"To what do you refer?"

"Why, to live amongst the commoners for so many years before being restored to your rightful place, of course!"

"We are still the same people that we were before. The changes in our lives have all been circumstantial. The home we live in now is much larger. My father no longer has to work as a weaver of silk and can once again engage in his former pastimes with my uncles, and my mother no longer has to perform drudgery, but we still love God, His true church, Her Majesty, our dear England, and each other, just as we did before. The really important things haven't changed."

Henry looked baffled. Grace hadn't really expected him to understand, but that was perfectly all right.

* * *

><p>Her last conversation with her friend Gaston weighed heavily on Grace's mind that night. Gaston, the son of Pierre and Suzanne, had been just like a brother to Grace for her entire life.<p>

"Surely you will come and live with us," Grace had said. "There's plenty of room in our new home for everyone, and it's ever so nice. I know you'd love it there. There's a stream with a rowboat, and stables with horses..." Grace saw that Gaston was shaking his head and stopped talking.

"Your parents practically begged my parents to do just that, but we cannot," Gaston said sadly. "For us to live amongst those of your class would be like a fish leaving the water and attempting to live on dry land. We must stay where we are, for it is where we belong."

"But we're all equal in God's sight!" Grace had protested hotly.

"In God's sight, yes," Gaston had replied softly.

"Gaston, it isn't fair!" Grace had cried. "Your parents and their friends saved my parent's lives! None of us would even be here if it weren't for them!"

"They were happy and honored to have been used as instruments of God in the carrying out of His will. We are all happy for you, that you have finally been reunited with your family, but we must stay here because it's where we belong. That's just the way things are. Please don't feel sad for us, Grace. There's no reason to."

Grace looked at her surroundings, and when she compared them to those of her new dwelling, her heart just broke.

"But I fear I shall never see you again, dear Gaston!"

"That may indeed happen one day, if God wills it."

He had kissed her then, on the lips. It was the first time he had ever done so, the first time any boy ever had. Grace had been startled but delighted. The sensation of his lips against her own had been very pleasurable.

The night before she was to be wed, Grace thought of that kiss and buried her face in her pillow and cried until there were no more tears left.

* * *

><p>It was a beautiful wedding. Everyone watched in fascination as Henry and Grace exchanged vows and became husband and wife. Music and dancing followed. The Band of Gentleman Musicians performed; Bartolomeo Taliaferro saw Grace and smiled. She went to him and kissed his cheek, not caring who saw her or what they thought.<p>

Grace saw all her family members and all the members of Henry's extremely large family watching as she and Henry made their way to the center of the throng. There was her father standing with Uncle Ambrose and Uncle Robert, the three of them wearing identical smiles. There was the Queen standing beside Uncle Robert; their hands were touching, but just barely. _How curious if Her Majesty were to someday become our aunt as well as our cousin..._Her mother and sisters stood beside the Queen, all of them looking very happy.

Grace danced with her father, with Uncle Robert, with her uncle Henry Hastings, who was married to her Aunt Katherine, with her cousins Philip and Robert Sidney, with her own younger brothers, with Henry's father, who was also named Henry, and finally with Henry himself. She noticed the smile that was exchanged between Philip and her sister Temperance. Interesting, that. Matches between first cousins were acceptable, weren't they? Grace was pretty sure they were.

Uncle Ambrose, unable to dance because of his war injury, stood silently watching. Grace curtsied, and he smiled and blew her a kiss. Grace saw Henry's cousin, Lettice Knollys, staring longingly at Uncle Robert, undoubtedly hoping for the opportunity to dance with him. The Queen calmly met Lettice's eyes, and Lettice quickly looked down.

_Some day Gaston will marry a Huguenot girl and have a family of his own. _Why did that thought make her feel so sad?

Grace forced the thought from her mind and concentrated instead on how lovely the music was, what a good dancer Henry was, and how enraptured everyone looked. With so much happiness abounding, how could Grace help but feel very happy herself?

* * *

><p>Jane carefully studied her daughter's face and was immeasurably relieved to see nothing but absolute radiance on it. Grace had looked a bit peaked earlier, and Jane had worried that perhaps she hadn't gotten enough sleep. <em>Ah, well, pre-wedding nervousness is perfectly understandable.<em>

Jane's mind drifted back in time to another wedding eighteen years previously, to a sullen girl sitting beside a stony-faced boy, he smiling slyly at a dancing girl. He hadn't realized that she had seen him, but she had. Yet, given the cold reception he had received from her, who could blame him?

Yet here was Guilford now, right in front of her, smiling broadly and bowing deeply.

"May I have this dance, madame?"

"Oh, of course! Sorry..." Jane shook her head as if to clear it of cobwebs.

"It's quite all right. Of what were you thinking just then that made you look so pensive?"

"Only of what a lovely bride our daughter is, and what a brief time it seems since she was a baby."

"How absolutely right you are on both counts, my dear. Henry adores her; you can see it in his eyes. They haven't been anywhere else but on her the entire time."

Rejoicing that yet another old wound had just finished healing completely, Jane wondered whether anyone would consider her selfish for wanting to dance only with Guilford for the entire time. Yet he was already laughingly passing her to Robert, who spun her around as if she weighed no more than a feather. Robert leaned close to kiss her cheek, and she smelled the wine on his breath.

"I've never seen you looking any lovelier than you do today, my dear sister," Robert whispered. Jane glanced furtively at the Queen, and Elizabeth, dancing with Guilford, smiled warmly at her.

Then it was time to change partners again, and Jane found herself dancing with her brother-in-law Henry Hastings. Glancing beyond Henry, she saw Ambrose standing alone and felt a little sad for him. Quickly, she went to him and hugged him. He returned the hug and kissed her cheek as Robert had. "It's wonderful to see you again, sister Jane," he said in his quiet way.

Much later, the gaity had finally ended, and Guilford and Jane made their way to their sleeping quarters alone. Jane lost her balance and stumbled a little, and Guilford steadied her.

"Sampled the wine a bit, did we?" Guilford grinned saucily at her. Jane drank wine so rarely that it took very little of the substance to make her feel pleasantly giddy.

"You should talk." Jane knew that Guilford had drank at least as much as she herself had, although, of course, his tolerance level was considerably higher than her own.

"What did Robert whisper to you?"

"Only that he thought I looked very lovely today."

"If not for Amy, our father would have had you wed to him instead, as he is older." A look akin to anger flashed in Guilford's eyes for just a second and was gone.

Jane remembered Robert's eyes on her and began to slowly shake her head.

Guilford laughed and pressed his body against hers. He was feeling pleasantly giddy from the wine too. Jane's wandering hand found the bulge in his breeches, and he moaned softly as she touched him there. Within seconds, they were both naked and eagerly exploring one another's bodies as if they themselves were the newlyweds.

* * *

><p>"He would have hurt you, in the end," Guilford said softly as they lay cuddling in bed afterwards.<p>

"Whatever are you talking about?"

Jane watched as a cascade of emotions flittered across her husband's face. Never before had she seen him so torn. What he said next seemed to take much effort.

"Amy was found at the bottom of the stairs. Her neck was broken."

Shocked, Jane waited for him to continue.

"He and Her Majesty loved one another. They still do. They had been close in childhood, and then drifted apart. He married Amy. Then Elizabeth became Queen and he became Master of the Horse. Their romance was rekindled. But there was Amy. Her Majesty found out about Amy and...woudn't let him come to her anymore."

"So he...pushed her down the stairs? Or got someone else to?"

"The coroner ruled that it was an accident, thank God. I tell you these things, Jane, because you're bound to hear of them sooner or later, and it's only right that you hear them from me first. My brother has enemies, Jane. Ambrose and I fear greatly for his safety."

"My own brother-in-law is an adulterer and possibly a murderer as well?" The wine, or something else, now seemed to be doing very upleasant things to Jane's stomach, so much so that she wondered where the nearest basin was kept.

"As I said, the coroner ruled that Amy's death was an accident," Guilford said harshly. "I'll thank you not to slander my brother, as many have, and still do."

"But...he and the _Queen..._"

"He loves her. She's the reason he never remarried after Amy. He's been a widower for almost eleven years, Jane."

"The marriage between Robert and Amy was arranged by your father, as our own was, right?"

"No. It was a love match. They knew one another for almost a year before they wed."

Jane turned away from Guilford, moved as close to the edge of the bed as she could, and curled her body into a tight ball. She held a corner of the sheet, clinched tightly in her fist, to her mouth.

A few seconds later she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder.

"Janie?"

He used the nickname rarely enough that she knew that what was to follow was of special import.

"I'm not him," Guilford said softly. "We were born of the same parents and raised in the same home, but I could never be him." He took Jane's hand and placed it over his own heart. "No other woman shall ever take my love from you, even if she be a queen."

When Guilford released Jane's hand, she returned to her curled position, wondering what in the world had ever possessed her to want her old life back.

"John and Henry are both gone now. There's only me, Robert, and Ambrose left." Guilford's voice held a pleading note, but still Jane said nothing.

After awhile, Guilford lay back down himself and hesitantly reached for Jane, unsure whether or not she was ready to accept the comfort he wanted to offer her. To his relief, she moved to where her back was pressed up against his chest. Guilford loved the fact that when he was curled around her as he was now, the top of her head came up exactly to beneath his chin, placing it in the perfect position for him to kiss it. He couldn't stop wondering what would have become of Jane if the circumstances had been such that she had been forcibly married to Robert rather than to himself. It was a disturbing thought, as Guilford realized that he would have been helpless, unable to protect her. Yet Amy's death had been an accident...of course it had been...

* * *

><p>Although Jane fully expected rest to elude her that night, exhaustion from the busy and stressful day, the lingering effects of the wine, the comforting warmth of Guilford's body pressed against hers, and the sweet pressure of his lips against her hair all combined to gently nudge her toward sleep.<p> 


	11. Dreams And Conversations

_She watched from the barred window of the Tower as the carriage approached. When it was close enough, she saw that it contained a large bundle and a small bundle, both wrapped in winding sheets._

_"He will be given a Christian burial," someone told her._

_"Guilford...my Guilford..."_

"Jane! Wake up!"

She didn't realize that she was sobbing out loud until a hand was gently shaking her awake and she was looking into a pair of loving eyes full of concern for her.

"The soul takes flight to the world that is invisible..." she mumbled, struggling to shake off the last foggy remnants of the dream.

"It's all right, Jane. It was just a dream. Everything's all right, my darling." There he was, still in one piece and blessedly alive, lightly sweeping a strand of damp hair back with his fingers and kissing her forehead.

"Why did I dream about it again, Guilford? I thought my nights of dreaming those kinds of dreams were all behind me."

"I don't know." He looked thoughtful. "Overindulgence on food and drink yesterday, perhaps?" He smiled gently. "But then, you were entitled, of course. After all, it isn't every day that a daughter of ours gets married."

"Perhaps." She thought that her dream had more likely had something to do with the fate of her poor, dead sister-in-law Amy, but she wasn't about to bring that subject up again.

She idly ran the fingers of one hand through his golden hair; he took that hand in one of his own, kissed it, and held it to his cheek.

"Stay," she whispered. "I want to feel you beside me for just a little while longer."

"Hold me close...never let me go..." Guilford sang softly as he gently traced Jane's facial features with his finger. Jane joined in on the next line of the song. "Hold me close...melt my heart like April snow..."

The last vestiges of the disturbing dream finally disappeared.

* * *

><p>Grace's wedding night turned out to be a rather disappointing experience. The first time she and Henry had intercourse, Henry climaxed almost immediately, leaving him mortified and Grace non-plussed. Once Henry had recovered sufficiently from his acute embarassment, they made a second attempt, which, while better than the first, still left Grace with the opinion that the act was highly overrated. <em>Surely God, in His infinite wisdom, could have devised a less awkward scheme for getting babies here.<em>

Afterwards, as they lay waiting for sleep to overtake them, Henry shared more of his family background with his bride.

"My grandmother would never say for sure, but it has always been rumoured that my true grandfather was King Henry VIII himself rather than her husband William Carey," he told Grace.

"If that's true, then you and I are related, as the King was my mother's great uncle," Grace said. "That would make us second cousins, I believe, or perhaps it's third cousins."

"Second cousins, once removed." Henry laughed gently. "But I don't suppose it matters."

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Grace yawned and cuddled closer to Henry. She felt warm and safe.

* * *

><p>Jane felt very awkward around the Queen the next time she and Elizabeth were together. How many times had Elizabeth and Robert been together before she had found out that he was married to Amy? How did one deliberately deceive a queen and still manage to keep his head? Of course, being nice looking, charming, and male couldn't possibly hurt...yet, how dare Jane think that way? Robert <em>was <em>her brother-in-law, after all...

As perceptive as she was, Elizabeth immediately realized that something weighed heavily on Jane's mind.

"What troubles you, my dear cousin?"

"Guilford told me about the death of Robert's wife Amy," Jane said quietly.

"An unfortunate accident that was."

"Yes, that's what Guilford told me."

"Yet it was more then ten years ago. Why is it so much on your mind?"

"Only that she was my sister-in-law and that she was so young and her death so tragic."

"Yes. Well, it was much talked about at the time. I'm sorry that the subject brings you such distress, but as it was, as I said, well over ten years ago, it belongs in the past, and I don't wish for it to ever be mentioned in my presence again."

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Jane grew alarmed at the thought of the number of times she had been less than completely honest with Guilford. While she had never told him an outright lie, she had often hid her true feelings about certain things, as she had been afraid of upsetting him. She couldn't help but wonder whether he had been the same way toward her. Was there something about court life that brought to the forefront one's basest instincts? If so, what had she gotten herself and, more importantly, her children, into? Would Grace truly be happy married to Henry? What was in store for the younger children?

* * *

><p>Grace had imagined that she would feel really different upon visiting her family as a married woman for the first time, but once she was actually inside, everything somehow felt much the same. Right away, there was her sister Temperance, her eyes sparkling with excitement, grasping her hand and leading her down a hall to a private alcove.<p>

"Tell me, Grace! What was it like?"

"It was all right. Nothing special."

Temperance looked shocked. "Didn't you enjoy it then?"

"Not particularly."

"Did it hurt then, as they say?"

"It did a little at first, yes."

The girls heard a suppressed giggle and soon discovered nine-year-old Katherine hiding behind a drape.

"Go play with your dolls, Katherine. You're too young for such matters," said Grace.

"I'm too old for dolls," retorted Katherine, scampering away.

"Perhaps I shan't marry at all," Temperance said thoughtfully.

"But of course you shall. It's our duty to marry and produce heirs for our husbands, just as it's our brothers' duty to marry and beget heirs. When the time is right, Her Majesty will find someone nice for you, as she did for me."

"Her Majesty has never married, and she's older than Mother, even."

"That's because she's the Queen, so she never has to do anything that she doesn't really want to do."

"Uncle Robert loves her. When I see him looking at her, I see our father looking at our mother. He would marry her quickly enough if she would have him."

"I know that."

"Why then won't she marry him?"

"God only knows, Tempy."

Temperance smiled coyly. "Don't you think our cousin Philip is nice looking, Grace?"

"I suppose so. I haven't really given it any thought."

"He _is _a Protestant, isn't he?"

"Of _course _he is!"

"Tell me again why Catholics are going to hell, Grace."

"Don't you pay attention in church? It's because they rely on good works and superstition, rather than grace alone through faith in our lord Jesus Christ, for salvation. That, and they hold that the Pope is infallible, and they also pray to Mary and the saints, when we are to pray to God alone."

"Why do we not tie them to stakes and burn them, as they once did to us?"

"Because that isn't what God wills. Instead, He wills that we should pray for them, that they would see the error of their ways and repent and turn to the true faith."

Temperance was troubled by a nuance she had picked up from something Grace had said earlier. "You _do _love Henry, don't you, Grace?"

Grace was looking not at her sister but at a point far beyond. "I shall, in time," she said softly.

* * *

><p><em>Her eyes were open, but all that she could see was blackness. She realized that the reason for that was the cloth that had been tied behind her head, entangled with her hair. <em>

_"Where is it? What do I do? **Where is it?"** Never before in her life had she felt so frightened and helpless. A hand - she had no idea whose, but it felt male - gently took her own and guided it forward. Now she could feel the hard, cold stone..._

...and her eyes suddenly jerked open to stare at the ceiling. She turned her head slightly and saw that Guilford was still sleeping peacefully beside her. Thankfully, she hadn't awakened him this time.


	12. Mary

Jane was on her way to visit her only surviving sister, Mary, who was imprisoned at Gresham House, the home of Sir Thomas Greshem and his wife, Anne. Jane was accompanied by her youngest daughter, Katherine. Katherine was the only one of the three Dudley sisters to have inherited their father's blond hair, although hers was a darker shade than Guilford's; it was almost a sandy brown. Today, it was tied back with a handkerchief, and her face bore a glum expression. Grace was spending the day with Henry, Temperance was now a lady in waiting for the Queen, and Robert and Ambrose were spending the day with their father and his brothers. Katherine didn't really mind spending the day with her mother, but as she was too young to be a lady in waiting and hadn't been invited along on any of the other excursions, she couldn't help but feel a little bit left out.

"I haven't seen your Aunt Mary since she was nine years old," said Jane, who sympathized with her daughter but was glad to have the company.

"Why isn't she allowed at court, Mother?"

"Her Majesty is angry that your Aunt Mary married without her permission."

"But that was years ago! Why is she still angry?"

"I don't know, Katherine." Mary's husband's name was Thomas Keyes, and they had been married for eight years, although they had only lived together for the first couple of weeks of their marriage. Furious that they had married with neither her knowledge nor her permission, Elizabeth had immediately had both of them imprisoned in separate places. Gresham House was Mary's second prison. Her first had been with Sir William Hawtrey at Chequers.

Jane and Katherine were greeted by a servant and shown to Mary's quarters. Mary was both shocked and thrillled to see Jane again.

"My dear sister!" she exclaimed as she and Jane embraced.

"This is my daughter, Katherine," Jane told her.

"Hello," Katherine said as she curtsied.

Mary's eyes filled with tears at the sound of the name.

"Alas, how I miss our dear sister," she said. "How she would have loved to have seen you again."

"And I, her," Jane said softly. "What of our dear nephews? Do they fare well?"

"Well enough. They are in the care of their grandmother, the Duchess of Somerset, at Hanworth."

Mary turned back to Katherine. "It is really amazing how closely you resemble your poor aunt whose name you bear."

"I'm the only one in my family with blonde hair and blue eyes," Katherine told her.

"As had she," Mary said sadly.

"How did she die?" asked Katherine.

"It was said at the time that consumption killed her, but the true cause of her death was a broken heart over being separated from her husband and sons."

"Why was she separated from them?"

"Like myself, she married without the Queen's permission, and what was even worse was that she married Edward Seymour, the nephew of the King's third wife. Elizabeth was so angry that she not only imprisoned Katherine but separated her from her husband and two children as well. She died without ever seeing them again."

"Are her sons my cousins too then?"

"Indeed they are."

"How old are they?"

"Edward is ten, and Thomas is eight."

"Do you never get to see your husband either then, Aunt Mary?"

"Indeed I do not." Mary's eyes filled with tears, and Jane embraced her tenderly. She couldn't imagine the torture of being separated from Guilford for the length of time Mary and Thomas had been apart.

* * *

><p>"I'm taller than she is, and she's all grown up," Katherine said to her mother as they traveled back home.<p>

"I know."

"Why doesn't she stand up straight?"

"She can't. There's something wrong with her back."

"Just like there's something wrong with Uncle Ambrose's leg?"

"Not exactly. Your Uncle Ambrose was injured in battle. Your Aunt Mary was born the way she is now."

"She certainly is different from our other Aunt Mary, Philip and Robert's mother, isn't she?"

"She certainly is."

"Temperance thinks that Philip is handsome, you know."

"Temperance's mind is entirely too much on foolishness and not nearly enough on her studies. She's the exact opposite of myself at her age."

"Is love foolishness, Mother?"

"Of course not, but everything has its proper time and place."

"I'm serious about _my _studies, Mother."

"I know you are. You're a good girl, Katherine." Jane smiled approvingly at her daughter.

Her objective obtained, Katherine's conversation now turned to horses, parties, and dancing.

* * *

><p>Jane told Guilford of Mary's plight that evening.<p>

"I'll speak to Robert about it and see if he can get Her Majesty to reconsider. You know that she never can say no to him, except in reply to one question." Guilford laughed curtly.

"Her Majesty shall never marry. She fears that to wed would compromise her power."

"If my father's quest to put you on the throne and keep you there had been successful, how would sharing power with me appealed to you?" Guilford grinned cheekily.

Jane considered the question for a minute. "As we tend to agree on many issues, I suppose I wouldn't have minded so much."

"Not that it would have mattered whether or not you minded." Guilford laughed, and Jane playfully threw a pillow at him. Undeterred, he picked her up and gently laid her on the bed before climbing up beside her.

* * *

><p>Several days passed with no word from Guilford about Mary's situation, so Jane asked him if he had spoken to Robert yet.<p>

"He said that now is not a good time to ask her about it. I'm sorry, Jane."

"He doesn't like me anyway," Jane muttered under her breath.

"That isn't true at all. You've always had the full support of my entire family, Jane. On the contrary, it is you who dislike Robert. You question the morality of his relationship with Her Majesty, and despite the coroner's conclusion, you persist in believing that he had something to do with Amy's death."

"I wonder how much that coroner was paid to come to that conclusion, and by whom," Jane muttered.

For one terrifying moment Jane was afraid that Guilford would strike her. Instead, he wordlessly turned and walked away, shutting the door hard behind him. He refused to speak to Jane for the rest of that day, and that night they lay in bed staring at the wall on opposite sides, their bodies not touching at all.

The following day, Jane walked in the garden with the Queen while Guilford went hunting with Robert and Ambrose. Dusk approached, and the time they would have normally returned came and passed. A terrible thunderstorm drove Jane and Elizabeth back into the palace. Although neither woman said anything to the other, it was obvious that they were both very worried.

At last Ambrose appeared, his limp much more pronounced than usual and a look of utter anguish on his face. "They are gone...all is lost, I fear..." he groaned before collapsing.


	13. As You Wish

"My bonny sweet Robin! My only source of happiness!" Elizabeth wailed, clinging to Jane.

Ambrose's wife Anne, who was only six years older than Grace, struggled to help him up. Several servants helped the young woman as she tried to lift her husband.

"Whatever happened?" Jane asked.

Ambrose was now seated and drinking cider offered him by Anne.

"My leg started really hurting, so I told the others to go ahead without me, that I would catch up to them later. I sat on a stump to rest for a few minutes, then got up and continued on my way. It started raining, and I called their names but got no reply. As the rain became harder and the thunder and lightning began, I became more frantic. I kept calling for them but got no response. Eventually I heard growling and realized that a wild animal was nearby. By this time it was nearly dark, it was still raining very hard, and the throbbing in my leg was almost unbearable. I was forced to turn around and return without them. I shall never see either of my brothers again, I fear..." Ambrose choked back sobs as Anne tried to comfort him.

Elizabeth's eyes were full of tears as she looked pleadingly into Jane's. "I don't know how I can go on without him," she cried.

"I know," Jane said soothingly, embracing the Queen and patting her back. "I feel the same way about my Guilford." At that moment, they were no longer a Queen and her subject, but simply two women bonded by mutual despair.

_Mary and Katherine must be notified, _Jane realized. But Mary Sidney was already there, helping to comfort her brother Ambrose. "Henry has gone to tell Katherine, and a searching party has already been sent out with blood hounds," she told Jane and the Queen.

Mary was Jane's favorite sister-in-law, and the one nearest her own age. Badly scarred by the smallpox she had acquired as the result of nursing the Queen through her own illness some ten years previously, Mary nevertheless stilll had the same sweet spirit and quiet efficiency. Although a bit frightened of her appearance at first, Jane's children had quickly come to love her and consider her their favorite aunt.

Time almost seemed to stand still as the little group waited, scarcely daring to hope that Robert and Guilford would be found alive. Everyone tried their best to comfort Jane and the Queen, for whom they knew the loss would be the hardest to bear. Elizabeth, normally so stately and dignified, sobbed like a lost child. Jane felt a strange numbness, a sense of unreality, as if she were living out one of her nightmares and knew that she would awaken soon. Her arm was around Elizabeth the entire time, as the partners in misery waited for the endless moments to pass. Flashbacks of her last night in the Tower seventeen years previously returned and threatened to overwhelm Jane, only this time, it was the image of the fangs and claws of a wild beast rather than that of the executioner's block that tormented her.

Dawn was nearly breaking when two bedraggled figures barely recognizable as Robert and Guilford finally staggered in. Cries of relief and joy came from the waiting group; Elizabeth threw her arms around Robert, and Jane embraced Guilford.

"It's a miracle!" Ambrose exclaimed.

"Where were you both? We were all so worried!" added Mary.

"When the rain started to get heavy and the thunder and lightning started, we found a cave, intending to just wait out the storm and then continue hunting. The storm just went on and on, and we both must have fallen asleep eventually, because the next thing we knew, it was pitch black outside. As we had no candles or torches, we had to rely on the light from the moon and stars alone to find our way back. We got lost a couple of times," Robert explained.

"The good Lord be thanked for bringing you both safely back to us," said Elizabeth.

Guilford and Jane returned to their own quarters in silence. It weighed heavily on Jane's mind that Guilford had left for the hunting excursion without saying good-bye to her that morning. She knew that he had still been angry about the remark she had made the previous evening, and she feared that anything she said might elicit a harsh response from him.

Silently, Guilford took a bath and then ate voraciously. Jane sat staring at the same spot on the wall the entire time, discreetly glancing his way every now and then. He gave no acknowledgement of her presence. He finally finished eating, pushed the plate away, rested his head in his hands, and sighed deeply. Jane quietly stepped behind him and began to massage his shoulders. He took her hands into his own and squeezed them. She sat beside him and looked into his eyes.

"I was truly afraid that I would never again see you alive," she told him. He looked at her silently. "If I never had, I would have had to live with the knowledge that the final words between us had been bitter. That would have been a cross too heavy for me to have borne." He nodded slightly.

"Guilford, I am truly sorry for what I implied about Robert. It was cruel of me to have said that when I realize how much he means to you."

"Think no more of it, my love." He gently touched her chin and looked at her with eyes full of compassion. "I swear to you, Jane, I will do everything within my power to help your Mary. I know how much _she _means to _you."_

Jane kissed the palm of his hand. "I want you to make love to me, Guilford."

"As you wish." He grinned, and his eyes twinkled as he took her hand and led her to the bed.

At the crucial moment he started to move away, but in her mind Jane saw the storms in Guilford's eyes the previous night and the tears in Elizabeth's as the Queen had clung to her. "No, stay. Please stay," she whispered. Guilford moaned softly as he filled her, then rested his head between her breasts as she ran her fingers through his silky blond hair. Neither of them wanted that moment to end.

* * *

><p>Whether due to effort on Guilford's part or the new closeness she had shared with Elizabeth since the night of the hunting mishap, Jane never knew, but Thomas and Mary Keyes had both been released from prison and returned to court within a fortnight. Jane was amazed to see how tall Thomas was. Mary's head came to only just above his waist when they stood together, yet they were deeply in love and overjoyed to finally be together again. Jane, of course, was thrilled for them.<p>

Young Edward and Thomas Seymour, their parents' marriage annulled and themselves declared illegitimate, remained in their grandmother's care. They were cared for and well provided for, and Jane wasn't about to press her luck.

It was several weeks after Thomas and Mary's arrival that Jane suddenly realized that her monthly courses were nearly three weeks late. They normally came exactly every twenty-eight days. Jane thought of the night she had asked Guilford to remain within her and smiled to herself.


	14. Ominous Indications

Jane paid a visit to the court physician, of course, but she already knew what the diagnosis would be. After examining her, the physician asked about her previous pregnancies, and she told him about the six live births and two stillbirths she had experienced. The physician told her that everything seemed to be fine so far and made an appointment to examine her again at a later date.

"I paid a visit to the court physician today," she told Guilford that evening.

"Are you ill?" He immediately looked concerned.

"No, but I am with child again."

Guilford's mouth dropped open in shock. "How could that have happened, considering how careful we've been?"

"Remember the night you returned very late from hunting and I was so happy to finally see you again that I asked you to stay within me rather than moving away?"

"Ah, yes." Guilford smiled fondly for just a moment, then looked concerned again. "But you bled so heavily with the last birth, my love. What if it should happen again?"

"The physician believes that so many births within just a few years may have been the cause. He said that now that my body has had a few years to rest that perhaps the outcome will be different this time."

"By God, I surely hope that what he says is true." Guilford embraced her and patted her belly. "Take good care of your mother, little one."

The responses of the children to the news were varied. Grace was first shocked, then thrilled. "Perhaps I shall be with child soon myself, and then they shall be playmates for one another!"

Temperance was incredulous. "Really, Mother, I thought that you were rather old for such goings-on..." Jane laughed and shook her head.

"I hope it's another boy. Our family already has three girls," said Robert.

"A baby sister would be so much fun to dress up!" said Katherine.

"There will be another baby besides me, then?" Ambrose looked devastated.

"You're not a baby anymore. You're a big boy now." Jane kissed him on the forehead as he tried unsuccessfully to squirm away.

* * *

><p>Summer became autumn, and a light snow was falling on the day Jane felt the child within her move for the first time. That evening she placed Guilford's hand on her rounded belly so that he could share in the experience. For the first time he seemed truly excited, as his concerns for Jane's health had previously tended to override any positive feelings he had.<p>

"Robert and Ambrose will both be so thrilled to meet their new niece or nephew," he said. "They never knew any of the other children as babies."

"Mary will be happy as well," Jane said quietly.

"Of course she will be, as will my Mary and Katherine."

"Our child will have many people to love him or her," Jane said happily. She had noticed a cooling in her relationship with the Queen of late, and it worried her. She wondered whether Elizabeth might be envious of her, although the sight of a belly swollen with child was certainly not an uncommon one at court.

* * *

><p>One evening, Guilford and Jane went for a walk after dinner. Guilford had been feeling poorly all day and hoped that the fresh air would make him feel better. The air was cool and crisp, and the snow was beginning to melt. A rare sun was shining, giving the palace gardens a storybook charm.<p>

Guilford and Jane discussed possible names for the new baby as they strolled along.

"I like the name Henry for a boy," Guilford said. "It was the name of my younger brother who was killed in battle in France."

"It was also my father's name," said Jane.

"I know that your relationship with him was not a good one," Guilford said gently.

"He didn't beat me as my mother did, but neither did I ever gain his approval. He criticized me harshly for spending too much time reading. He would have preferred me to have been more of the outdoor type, as he and my mother were."

"I've always admired you for being so intellectual," Guilford said. "It's a trait rarely found in the fairer sex."

"It's quite possible that many of the fairer sex have qualities you would never suspect them of having," Jane said with a smile.

"I didn't mean that in a condescending way," said Guilford.

"It's quite all right. On an evening as lovely as this one, there are certainly more pleasant subjects to discuss."

"You are so very right, as always." Guilford smiled gratefully.

"If the baby is a girl, I should like to call her Elizabeth, after the Queen," Jane said.

"It's a lovely name," Guilford agreed, suddenly looking very pale.

"Are you all right?" Jane was alarmed.

"I don't know. Suddenly I feel very weak."

"We'd better head back. Do you think you can make it?"

"I'll have to try. After all, I don't have much other choice, do I?"

Guilford took a hot bath and went to bed early that night. The next morning he lay under the covers shivering, too weak to get out of bed. Jane felt his forehead with the back of her hand.

"My God, you're burning up," she whispered. As she moved her hand she thought that she felt something hard. Upon closer examination, she discovered a fluid-filled blister with a tiny indentation in the center just below Guilford's hairline.

_Oh dear God, please no, _she prayed silently.


	15. Trial By Fire

"I shall call for the physician right away," Jane said, trying very hard to keep her voice from shaking, as she didn't want to alarm Guilford unnecessarily.

The physician arrived, examined Guilford, and shook his head gravely.

"Have you already had smallpox?"

"No, sir." Jane had known what the diagnosis would be before the physician had even been summoned.

"You must leave immediately. He's very contagious."

"What about my baby?"

The physician just shook his head sadly.

Jane quickly arranged for Mary Sidney, who of course had already had smallpox, to come and care for Guilford. Jane planned to stay with Grace and Henry for the duration of Guilford's illness, and the younger children would be sent to stay with their Uncle Ambrose and Aunt Anne at North Hall in Northaw, Hertfordshire.

"Your father has smallpox," Jane told Grace by way of explanation when she arrived at her door.

"Oh, no!" Grace's eyes went wide with dismay. "When did he first become ill?"

"He felt poorly all day yesterday. I found his first pock this morning when I felt his forehead."

"Oh, my God!" Grace began to sob. "I don't think that I could bear to lose Father!"

"We must be strong and support each other. You know that that's what he would want."

"But your little one...my brother or sister..." Grace lightly touched Jane's swollen abdomen.

"We must hope and pray that God's will is that the little one and I shall be spared."

"Oh, Mother!" Grace clung to her mother, and they both sobbed.

* * *

><p>For ten days Jane hardly ate or slept at all. She spent hours pacing back and forth like a caged animal in her daughter and son-in-law's home, alternatively praying and crying.<p>

"Mother, you must eat something, for your little one's sake if not for your own," Grace begged her. Jane knew that Grace was right, but every time she tried to swallow, it felt as if the food would stick in her throat.

Finally news arrived from Mary. Guilford was feeling much better, and his scabs were almost gone. The physician felt that it was safe for Jane and the children to return home.

Guilford looked so pale and thin that Jane hardly recognized him. His face lit up when he saw Jane, and he rushed to her and embraced her tightly as she clung to him as if she would never let go.

"Praise God that He saw fit not to take you from me," she said.

"Have you been eating well and getting adequate rest?" Guilford asked.

"Oh, yes," Jane lied.

"What about the baby? Are the movements still regular and strong?"

"Yes, they are."

Guilford patted Jane's belly. "You are brave and strong, a fighter, just like your mother is," he said softly.

Things were fine for several days, and then Jane began to experience the same symptoms Guilford had originally felt. They both tried to tell themselves that perhaps it was just a passing illness, but when pox began to appear on Jane's forehead, they could deny the truth no longer.

"Whatever shall we do? I don't feel right about sending for Mary again, after all the time she has just spent caring for you," Jane said.

"I shall take care of you myself," Guilford assured her. "As I have just recovered, there is no danger of me falling ill again myself."

"The children..."

"They shall be sent away as before, and Grace and Henry shall be warned to stay away. My Jane, my precious Jane..." Guilford looked at her with eyes full of tenderness, longing, and deep sorrow. She knew that he wanted to cry but was holding it in for her sake.

The pox in Jane's mouth and throat made eating and drinking very painful, and the ones inside her eyelids made blinking excruciating, so she tried to keep her eyes closed as much as possible. Guilford moistened her lips with a wet sponge and rubbed an herbal ointment all over her body to relieve the itching. For hours at a time he read to her from the Psalms and the Gospels, and books of poetry. Sometimes he just held her and rocked her, which she found the most comforting of all.

Within a few days the pox dried up and formed scabs. Although she still felt very weak, Jane was able to be up and about, and the children were finally able to return home.

Several days later, Jane noticed that the movements of the child within her seemed to have lessened. One afternoon, she was bending to pick up an object that had fallen off a dresser when a sharp pain across her abdomen nearly took her breath away. She stood up and the pain went away, only to return with a vengeance several minutes later.

"Oh no, please no," she whispered. The expected time of her delivery was still a number of weeks away, and she knew that babies born before their time rarely survived. A third pain that was followed by a warm, wet trickle down her leg left no doubt in her mind what was happening.

Guilford heard her frightened scream and was there right away, helping her into bed and sending their son Robert to fetch the physician.


	16. Hoping For A Miracle

The physician arrived, took one look at Jane, and summoned the midwife. The midwife bustled in and quickly examined Jane.

"This child will certainly be born this day," the midwife said.

"But it's not due for weeks," Jane replied, unable to disguise the panic in her voice.

"No matter. Your body has already begun the process of giving birth."

Jane began to cry, and Guilford was there right away, stroking her back and soothing her.

"You must leave now," the midwife told him sharply. "It isn't fit for a man to witness what pertains to a woman."

"Please don't go, Guilford," Jane begged.

"I will not abandon my wife in the state she is in now," Guilford said flatly.

"If I say that you must leave, then you must do so immediately," the midwife insisted.

"So will you then force me to leave?" Guilford stood to his full height of over six feet and crossed his arms. "Force me, then."

The midwife glared angrily at Guilford. "Very well, then. But you must stay out of my way and not interfere with this child's birth in any way whatsoever."

"On my honor," Guilford muttered coldly.

Jane grimaced in pain as another contraction began, and Guilford took hold of both of her hands and looked into her eyes.

"Hold onto me, love," he said softly. "Look into my eyes and take deep breaths. Don't think about anything else but breathing."

The contraction ended and Jane sighed with relief. She rested her head on Guilford's shoulder and he stroked her hair. Within minutes she grimaced again as the next contraction began to build up.

"Just relax. You're doing fine," Guilford told her.

Several hours later, Jane began to feel the uncontrollable urge to bear down.

"Dear God, please, please let my child be born alive," she prayed.

The midwife examined her and told her to bear down with the next contraction. She did, and a few pushes later, a tiny body slid from her own.

Nobody said a word as the midwife held the limp, dusky blue body in her hands. The child was completely motionless and made no sound at all. Jane felt her heart sink. The midwife began to vigorously rub the infant between both her hands, one hand on its back and the other on its stomach. The newborn made several small mewing noises like those of a newborn kitten, and its skin tone changed from dusky blue to dusky rose.

"Thank you, God," Jane cried.

The midwife continued to massage the newborn until its cries became slightly stronger. Then she cleaned the baby, wrapped it in a piece of cloth, and gently laid it on Jane's breast.

"She's a wee, dainty little girl," the midwife said.

"Oh, Bessie," Jane breathed. She cuddled her new daughter and examined her miniature but perfect features. Then she looked at Guilford and smiled.

"I love you, Jane," he said as he gently swept curls damp with perspiration back from her flushed face. He was enthralled by his tiny new daughter as well, and couldn't resist taking each of Bessie's tiny feet into his hand to examine her toes. Bessie opened her milky dark blue eyes for the first time and quietly examined her parents' faces.

* * *

><p>The physician arrived shortly to examine Bessie, after which he looked at Guilford and Jane gravely.<p>

"I have only rarely seen an infant this tiny survive. Of those that do, some have brains so badly damaged that they are little more than fools, and others are permanently crippled. I tell you this not to cause you distress but simply that I feel that you have the right to know. At this stage the most important concern is that her surroundings must be kept absolutely clean. She must also have a minimum of visitors, as even healthy people unknowingly transmitt illness."

Tears clouded Jane's eyes as she felt such an overwhelming love for her tiny new daughter that she could hardly bear it. She felt Guilford's hand slide into her own, and she grasped it tightly.

"I do so hope that God will allow us to keep her. I don't think that I could bear to lose her."

"I told you, Jane. She's a fighter, just like her mother. Isn't that right, Bessie?" Guilford smiled fondly at the infant, who gazed calmly back at him.

"She looks as if she actually understands what you're saying." Jane managed a small smile.

"Of course she does." Guilford offered his finger to Bessie, who clutched it in her tiny fist.

Bessie was at first too weak to nurse, so Jane expressed milk by hand into a cup and fed the tiny infant by dipping the tip of a folded handkerchief into the milk and holding it to the child's lips. Guilford thought of using a hollowed-out quill pen, which worked somewhat better.

Remembering what the physician had said about visitors, Jane found it a challenge to keep family members away, as everyone was so very concerned about Bessie. She wanted very badly to allow Grace to hold her, then realized that if she did, then it would only be fair to allow the other siblings the same priviledge, and although she knew that none of them would ever do anything to deliberately hurt the baby, the thought of the tiny infant in the hands of young Ambrose made her cringe.

Jane, having so recently recovered from smallpox, was still very weak herself as well. She slept much of the time, and Guilford had to rouse her and urge her to eat. He never left her side, and at night he slept with his arm protectively covering her while Bessie, too small for a regular cradle, slept in a tiny, well-cushioned wooden box at her side.


	17. Massacre Part One

_A/N: I have nothing against Catholics at all and am not trying to portray them in a negative light but am only trying to present events from Jane's POV; i.e. the way I think she probably would have viewed things at the time. I hope that no one is offended._

**August 1572**

"The true believers in France are being massacred by the papists," Guilford told Jane one evening. "Admiral Coligny has been assassinated, and many more are dead or wounded." Guilford's voice was heavy with sorrow.

Jane looked up from feeding Bessie, shocked. "We must help them!" she exclaimed. "They saved our lives, Guilford. We both would have been dead these past eighteen years if not for them."

"I know that, Jane. But what can we do? We are only two people, and Bessie is at such a tender age to be left in the care of others."

"Bessie has many who love her and whom I would entrust with her care. I cannot sit back helplessly and watch while our brothers and sisters in Christ are being slaughtered." Guilford recognized the determined tone in his wife's voice and knew that her mind was made up.

"Very well, then. We shall travel to France as soon as possible. I will contact Francis Walsingham and you may help care for the wounded and their families."

Jane finished feeding Bessie and began to burp her. The physician was well pleased with the little girl's progress. She had gained a few pounds and was now able both to hold her head up and to turn over. She was a very pleasant baby who smiled and laughed a lot, and everyone at court had fallen in love with her. Her most ardent devotee was, surprisingly enough, Robert. He visited his little niece on a regular basis and brought her little toys and dolls. Seeing his devotion to her daughter, Jane quickly developed a more positive opinion of her brother-in-law than she had held previously.

"He never had any children of his own," Guilford explained. "I imagine that Bessie is almost like a daughter to him."

"It's a side of him I've never seen before, nor indeed even suspected he had," Jane replied.

* * *

><p>"Of course, I would be delighted to care for Bessie in your absence," Mary Keyes told her sister. Due to her unusually short stature and also her spinal deformity, it was doubtful that Mary would ever have children of her own, and she doted on her nieces and nephews, especially Bessie.<p>

"Come to me, my darling," she said to Bessie, who cooed and gurgled at her.

"On my word, I have never met a baby with a sweeter nature," Mary told Jane.

"She's a special gift from God," Jane agreed. "I'll thank Him forever that He allowed us to keep her and has blessed her as He has."

It was very difficult for Guilford and Jane to say good-bye to their tiny daughter. Both kissed her tiny forehead, ran one hand gently over her down-covered head, and told her how much they loved her before departing.

* * *

><p>"I will come along as well," Grace decided upon learning of her parents' plan. "I owe my life to them also, as had you both been executed I would never have existed, even."<p>

"I am very concerned for your safety, as there is still much fighting going on in the streets," Jane told her. "And what of Henry? He shall surely miss you."

"Henry has his business for Her Majesty to occupy his time," Grace said. "God would desire that I do everything possible to help His suffering children, I know."

Although she wouldn't admit it to herself, Grace had a reason of her own for wanting to accompany her parents, one which she tried her best to push to the back of her mind, however often it stubbornly came to the forefront again.

* * *

><p>As they entered the main hospital in Paris and were confronted with the tragic results of the first wave of violence, Jane and Grace were horrified. The moans and cries of the wounded tore at their hearts as the overwhelmed doctors and nurses rushed from bed to bed in an attempt to ease the suffering of the victims, but it was obvious that the task was far beyond them.<p>

Jane noticed a very young woman, barely older than Grace, who seemed to be bleeding from between her legs. Jane began to search for clean bedsheets and bandages when the woman grabbed her arm, desperately, frantically.

"Please, madame, can you tell me where my Louis is? I haven't seen him since they brought me in here hours ago."

"I'm very sorry, madame, but I have only just arrived here myself. I know the whereabouts of no one," Jane told her.

"You are English. I can tell by your accent."

"Yes."

"We came to Paris for the wedding of our Prince Henry to the King's sister, Margaret," the woman continued. "We heard the bells ringing and knew that something bad was about to happen. We became very frightened and searched for a place to hide. We were headed for a building that we knew had a basement when suddenly someone came up to Louis and stabbed him. Blood was everywhere. I started screaming and must have passed out because the next thing I knew, I was here."

"Louis and I were so happy. We had just wed only a few months past, and I had just found out that I am with child. Now I fear that my child may be lost. Oh!" The woman grimaced with pain.

"Let me see if I can find some medicine for your pain," Jane said, but the woman clutched her arm even more tightly.

"No! Please don't leave me! Please don't leave..."

Jane stayed beside the woman, holding her hand and stroking her forehead and attempting to comfort her. Within minutes it became obvious that the woman was indeed having contractions. The pain and bleeding increased until the woman finally passed an indistinct flesh-colored mass.

"My baby...my baby..." the woman cried.

"I'm so very sorry." Jane held the woman in her arms and murmured comforting words to her until the woman at last fell into an exhausted sleep. Then Jane gently covered her with a sheet, wrapped the object she had passed in a piece of cloth, and took it to a doctor, who told her to dispose of it.

The doctor's words made Jane very angry, and she refused to do as he had told her. Choking back sobs, she instead took the little bundle back to the woman's bed and tenderly laid it on the bed beside her, carefully covering it so that no one could see it. Then she kissed the sleeping woman's cheek and, valiantly struggling to subdue the spasms of grief threatening to overtake her, turned to another patient.

"Today I watched a woman lose her baby," Jane told Guilford later. "The doctor told me to dispose of it...as if it were merely a piece of trash..." At last she could let the grief she had kept bottled up inside her all day out. In Guilford's caring arms she cried until there were no tears left. He said nothing, offered no empty platitudes, just held her as she wept. He was still her rock, her fortress, her haven, as she was still his moral compass.

They were still two sides of the same coin.

* * *

><p>Grace had been working at the hospital almost non-stop for several days when she saw him, sitting beside the bed of a patient. A moment later he saw her as well, and his eyes registered first surprise, then delight, as he rose to greet her.<p> 


	18. Massacre Part Two

"Grace! It's been forever, hasn't it?" Gaston hugged her and kissed her on each cheek, as was his habit.

"Forever," Grace agreed.

"You shouldn't be here now, Grace. You should be back home in England where you're safe. Your life means nothing here."

"Do you now dwell in France then, Gaston, or still in Spitalsfield?"

"In Spitalsfield still, but I cannot stay safely in Protestant England while my family members and friends are being senselessly slaughtered."

"I came here for the same reason. Is your life of any less value than mine?"

Gaston sighed deeply. "My cousin, Rene." He nodded at the man on the bed. "Stabbed in the chest by a Catholic. I think that a lung might have been punctured."

Rene looked half awake, and his breath sounded very congested. A thin stream of blood trickled from his mouth. His eyes met Grace's, and he looked startled.

"An angel...come to escort me to Paradise..."

Gaston laughed gently and patted Rene's arm. "No, no, Rene. This is my friend Grace from England."

Rene coughed slightly, and Grace heard a gurgling sound in his chest as he exhaled.

* * *

><p>Jane was surprised to see Guilford enter the hospital later that day, blood dripping from his hand.<p>

"Guilford! What on earth..."

"I saw a Papist attempting to stab an unarmed man outside a church. I tried to stop him and my hand got in the way of the knife," Guilford said grimly.

"Oh, no, Guilford!" Jane gingerly examined Guilford's injured hand. The blood was copious, and the wound looked quite deep. "I'm afraid it will need stitches."

"I don't mind," Guilford said bravely.

"I can't bear the thought of causing you more pain, my love."

"If it must be done, then it must be done. Just try to be quick about it."

Jane could see that Guilford was in more pain than he was willing to show, although he neither said a word nor even flinched during the entire procedure. When it was finished, Jane tenderly kissed the wound. Guilford hugged and kissed her and departed to rejoin Sir Francis Walsingham, who was desperately trying to keep the peace.

* * *

><p>Grace sat with Gaston, both of them silently watching Rene. Occasionally he would stir, at which time Gaston or Grace would gently urge him to drink some water. At one point Grace saw his lips moving and heard him mumbling. She could just barely make out his words. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me..."<p>

Rene's lips stopped moving, and his eyes rolled up into his head.

"Gaston, do you suppose he's..."

Gaston felt Rene's wrist, then the side of his neck. He nodded solemnly, reached over to gently close Rene's blankly staring eyes, then pulled the sheet up to cover Rene's face.

There was no time to mourn, as right afterwards, a commotion arose as a group of several people entered the hospital, and Gaston and Grace went to see if they could be of any assistance. As she drew closer, Grace saw a sliver of white emerging from bloody flesh, and was shocked to realize that it was the stump of a man's arm with the bone protruding from the end. Suddenly her legs turned to jelly, the room began to spin, and then everything turned black. Gaston caught her just before she crumpled to the floor.

* * *

><p>"A woman in your condition has no business doing this kind of work," the physician told Grace. "For how long have you known that you were with child?"<p>

"To be honest, the possibility had never even crossed my mind," Grace replied. "I don't even remember when my last monthly courses were. Of course I've been tired lately, but I thought that it must be due to stress..."

"You must return to England right away," Jane said emphatically when Grace told her and Guilford the news. "I had serious misgivings about your coming along in the first place. I would have outright forbidden it if I had known that you were with child."

"But..."

"No arguments, Grace." Guilford's voice was kind but firm.

"I will escort you back to London," Gaston offered. "It isn't safe for you to travel alone."

"But you're still needed here..."

"You need me more."

"Please tell your Aunt Mary that your cousin Philip is safe. He's in Sir Walsingham's home with the others," Guilford told Grace.

"Temperance would have wanted to come as well if she had known he was here," Grace commented.

"For the wrong reason," Jane interjected sharply. "That girl is so different from the way I was when I was her age. I declare that I will never understand her."

"Of course, Father, I will tell her," Grace said.

"Please be careful, Grace." Jane hugged her daughter and kissed her cheek.

"You know that I will, Mother." Grace hugged both her parents and kissed them each on the cheek.

An awkwardness hung over Gaston and Grace as they travelled across the English Channel, one that had never been there before. In the past, conversation between them had always flowed freely and naturally. Now it was as if neither of them could think of a single thing to say to the other. A few furtive glances were exchanged, which seemed to only increase the awkwardness.

They were about halfway back to England when Gaston finally broke the silence.

"Does he treat you well, Grace?"

"Yes, he's very kind."

"I'm so glad to hear that. I couldn't bear it if he were mistreating you."

"Henry is a very good man."

"Henry? That's his name?"

"Henry Carey. He is Her Majesty's first cousin, once removed. His grandmother was Mary Boleyn, Her Majesty's mother's sister."

"It sounds like an excellent match."

"Yes." Grace stared out at the water, watching it come back together again after the boat had passed through it.

"Do you love him, Grace?"

Grace didn't answer for a long time, and Gaston almost repeated the question. "As I said, he's a good man and treats me well. We never quarrel...well, almost never."

"But do you love him?"

"I..." Grace seemed to focus intently on an invisible spot somewhere between the boat and the horizon. "Did you never marry then, Gaston?"

"No." His voice sounded more curt than he had intended it to. "The one I love is wed to another."

The awkwardness between them was now almost palpable. Grace was unsure how, or even whether, to respond. Finally she looked at her friend with eyes filled with pain. "I'm so sorry, Gaston." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"It's not your fault, Grace." Gaston's voice had a strange, hollow sound. "It's not your fault at all."

Grace thought of her young cousins Edward and Thomas Seymour and the tragic loss of their mother Katherine. She thought of her aunt Mary Keyes who had only recently been returned to court and reunited with her husband Thomas. Grace knew that there was no way in the world she could have married a French-born commoner and gotten away with it. No way in the world.

Grace forced herself to think instead of how happy Henry would be to discover that he was about to become a father, and how excited her brothers and sisters would be to find out that they were soon to have a niece or nephew. When finally she parted with Gaston, she felt as if she were saying good-bye to him forever, and as she watched him begin the journey back to France alone, she felt as if a part of her soul had been ripped out, leaving ragged edges raw and bleeding.


	19. Glenmalure

**August 1580**

"I am going with Baron Grey to put down the rebellion in the mountains of Glenmalure," Henry told Grace. "We must protect Dublin from the Catholic insurgents. Baron Grey believes that the most expedient route would be through Kildare, although it does concern me that the slopes are so steep and that we English, unlike the Irish, are unaccustomed to waging war on mountains. It is also a heavily wooded area with plenty of hiding places."

"Perhaps you should reconsider your plans, then," Grace told him. "Your family needs you."

"And let the Catholic rebels succeed? Never!" Henry was adamant. "It is my duty, as it is the others', to do my part to keep peace in our Irish territories. The other men all have families too. Why should I receive special consideration?"

"Are you going to war, Papa?" asked seven-year-old Henry.

"Yes, son, for just a little while. It'll all be over with very quickly and I'll come straight back home to you," his father told him.

"Don't go, Papa!" Three-year-old Guilford ran to his father and hugged his legs tightly. Henry picked the child up and hugged him.

"Some bad men in Ireland are causing a lot of trouble, and I have to go and help make them behave. Just like when you and your brother are quarreling and I have to make you stop."

"Are you going to thrash them, Papa?" Guilford's eyes now danced with excitement.

"Absolutely." Henry grinned at his son.

"Hurray!" Guilford cheered.

"Do be careful, darling." Grace gave Henry a final hug and kiss, trying to ignore the peculiar sinking feeling she felt in her stomach.

"Of course I will, my love."

Rather than sitting home with her children to await the results of the battle, Grace decided to pay a visit to her parents. Jane greeted her at the door, with eight-year-old Bessie not far behind. The little girl was very bright, but she hadn't walked until she had been past her third birthday, and she had always had a very pronounced limp. Her speech was quite badly slurred as well, and only those who knew her well could understand her without difficulty. The physician had said that the part of Bessie's brain that controlled her coordination had been damaged by the fact that she had been born so much too soon, but that Bessie was actually quite fortunate in that he had seen many children in her situation who had no control over their limbs at all and were totally mute.

Despite her problems, Bessie was the sweetest and most loving child Jane had ever known, and her sunny nature never failed to win over everyone who came into contact with her. Those who loved her most thought of her as one of God's special little angels, and she certainly seemed to live up to it. Her father doted on her and called her his 'ray of sunshine.'

"Henry!" Bessie's face lit up with joy upon seeing Grace's older son. Although Henry was a year younger than Bessie, he was taller and larger than she was. He was her best friend and fiercest protector, never failing to come to her defense when other children teased her about her limp or her slurred speech.

Henry rushed to Bessie's side and hugged her. "My father went to fight some bad men in Ireland," he told her. "They're _Catholics." _He paused for dramatic effect, and Bessie was duly impressed.

"Why don't you show Grace what you can do now," Jane suggested to her youngest daughter. Bessie grinned widely at Grace and painstakingly peformed a curtsy.

"Hurray!" Grace clapped enthusiastically. "That was perfect, Bessie!"

"She practiced all day long yesterday," Jane said.

"I can't wait to show Uncle Robert and Aunt Lettice!" Bessie said.

"I'm sure you'll get the chance to do that very soon," Grace told her.

Grace's father strolled into the room, scooped up his namesake grandson, and swung the boy up onto his shoulders. Young Guilford grabbed two big fistfuls of his grandfather's hair and squealed with delight. Guilford gently unhooked the little boy's fists from his hair.

"He looks more like you every day," Grace told her father. "I certainly chose the right name for him."

"That you did." Guilford grinned. "Henry looks remarkably like his father as well."

"Yes he does." That familiar sinking feeling in Grace's stomach returned again, and she tried desperately to squash it.

Hours passed. Grace returned to her home, and still her husband did not appear. She knew that battles sometimes lasted longer than one day and hoped that this one would not prove to be one of them.

Very late that same day, Grace's brother-in-law, William Carey, arrived with a wild, panicky look on his face. Grace took one look at him and felt her heart sink.

"The Irish ambushed us in the mountains." William was gasping for breath. He had obviously arrived in a great rush. "More than three hundred are dead...perhaps many more...I'm so sorry, Grace...Henry is among the missing..."

Grace felt totally numb, as if she weren't really standing there with William but was standing and watching herself from a distance. She tried to open her mouth but found that words escaped her. She knew for sure that she would awaken in a moment and find that it had been but a dream.

"Papa?" Young Guilford appeared, followed closely by his older brother, both boys bewildered to see their uncle rather than their father standing there.

"My dear child." William lifted his young nephew and hugged him tightly as young Henry looked at his mother with fear in his eyes.

"But where's my father?"


	20. Devastation

"These brave men did not die in vain, for although their blood lies on the slopes of Glenmalure, their spirit lives on in each and every one of us, inspiring us on as we continue to fight for all just causes for the sake of Her Majesty the Queen, for the sake of our beloved England, for the sake of our Lord."

The vicar's words failed to ease the pain in Grace's heart as she stood in the midst of all the other women who were dressed in mourning as she herself also was. She simply couldn't make herself believe that she would never see her Henry's smiling face again, would never again hear him tell her that he loved her, would never again feel the soft warmth of his touch, would never again make love to him. She had never before imagined that this much sorrow was even possible. How could she have ever thought that she didn't really love him? Why, of course she had! Why else would she feel this hollowness inside, this dread of another morning, this conviction that she could never be happy again?

As the eulogy continued, Grace thought of her two young sons who now must grow up without their father, and her heart went out to them. Her own father had simply always been there, and she couldn't imagine having grown up without him.

"His sacrifice shall never be forgotten." The fourteenth Baron Grey de Wilton, Arthur Grey, bowed to Grace and kissed her hand, then turned his attention to the woman behind her.

For Jane, standing with Guilford and Bessie, her daughter's plight seemed almost unbearable. That Grace should be left to raise two young children alone at twenty-five was indeed a harsh reality.

"If only I could somehow take all her suffering upon myself, I would do so without hesitation," she told Guilford.

"As would I," he said softly.

Bessie quietly walked up to Grace and hugged her. Grace held the young girl tightly to herself, more comforted by that gesture than she would have been by any words.

Guilford and Jane looked on, touched by the show of emotion between their oldest and youngest daughters.

Later that night little Guilford climbed up into his mother's lap.

"Mama, when is my papa coming back home?"

The innocence in the child's question cut Grace to the core.

"Your papa isn't ever coming home again, sweetheart. He's up in heaven with God now, watching over us."

"But I don't want Papa to be in heaven! I want him to be here with me!" Guilford began to cry.

"I know that, sweetheart." Grace cuddled her son and patted him soothingly. "We must be good so that when we die we can go to heaven to be with him."

"But I want to see Papa _now!"_

"We can't do that, sweetheart, but we must always remember that he's watching over us and taking care of us and that we _will _see him again some day."

_"No!" _Guilford, in the full throes of a tantrum now, flung himself to the floor and kicked with all his might. When he had exhausted himself, Grace picked him up and rocked him until he fell asleep. Then she went to her own bedroom and climbed up into the cold, empty bed, where she cried until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next day Grace put on a simple but elegant frilly white dress that was trimmed in lace and decorated with embroidered flowers. She made up her face carefully in an attempt to conceal her swollen eyelids and puffy cheeks, wove flowers into her hair, and gathered more flowers to take with her as a bouquet. She left her sons with their grandparents, telling no one where she was going.

* * *

><p>In a quiet little Huguenot neighborhood in the East End of London, the residents glanced up briefly at the approach of an unfamiliar carriage. The fact that its driver was obviously a woman of high social status was not lost to them, however, they were too preoccupied with their own worries and concerns to notice it much. In a small house, its lone occupant came to the door as he heard the horses' hooves getting closer.<p>

"Grace. _Mon Dieu," _Gaston whispered.


	21. Our Only Chance

Gaston watched uncomprehendingly as the carriage drew to a stop in front of his house and Grace climbed down from it. She smiled sadly as she handed him the bouquet of flowers.

_"Merci," _he said as he accepted them. "It's lovely to see you again, Grace, but to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"My Henry is now in the presence of God," she said quietly. "He was slain on the slopes of Glenmalure during the battle there."

"Oh, no! I am so sorry, Grace. Please, come in and sit down."

Grace followed Gaston into his small cottage and sat beside him on the sofa.

"It's been a sad year for me as well, as I lost my dear mother barely six months ago. She fell ill and was gone very quickly. At least her suffering was not long, and she now dwells in bliss with our Lord."

"Oh, Gaston, I am so sorry. She was such a precious woman. I'm sure that her heavenly reward is great."

"As am I, yet I miss her so _much..." _Gaston began to cry. Grace held his head in her lap and gently stroked his hair.

"I am so very glad you're here, my darling Grace," Gaston said. "In my time of great sorrow, the good Lord has sent an angel to comfort me."

"I had to come, Gaston. You see, I...I...have something very important to tell you." She took a deep breath, mustering her courage. "I love you, Gaston. I couldn't tell you before because...well, there was Henry. But he's gone now."

"Grace." Gaston's voice was almost a whisper. "I feel the same for you that you feel for me, yet we both know that nothing can ever come of it."

"Even so, I had to tell you."

"For what reason? Why is there even need to discuss the matter? Any other woman in your position would simply do the best they could to simply forget that I even exist."

"But I'm not any other woman in my position. I could _never _forget you, dear Gaston."

"I know that." Gaston sighed. "You're the most stubborn woman I've ever known, Grace."

"I came by that honestly, you know," said Grace.

He wasn't sure exactly what she was talking about, but he guessed that his parents would have probably understood.

"Make love to me, Gaston," Grace suddenly urged. Can't you see that it's our only chance? Her Majesty will surely have me wed to one of the Knollyses or another of their sort soon, and then it will be forever too late."

"So, that was the reason you came here today? To offer yourself to me?" Gaston burst out laughing. "That took a lot of nerve, Grace. A _lot _of nerve."

"I came by that honestly as well." Grace had to smile in spite of herself.

Gaston just stared at her incredulously for a few minutes, then softly chucked and took her hand. "Come on then, you silly girl," he said, leading her to his bedroom.

With Gaston there was none of the awkwardness that had accompanied her first time with Henry. The long-suppressed yearning mingled with a sense of urgency to make that encounter seem almost mechanical by comparison. As she kissed Gaston deeply and their tongues entwined, she closed her eyes and was transported to another place inside her mind, one inhabited by herself and Gaston alone. She barely noticed as he removed first her dress and then her undergarments. Her hands moved swiftly to divest him of his clothing as well. She felt his hot breath on her face, his soft lips as they kissed her, his hands as they explored her body for the first time.

After their passion was sated, he started to move away, but she clung to him and began to cry.

"What is it, my love? Did I hurt you?" His voice was soft with concern as he gazed into her eyes, his fingers gently sweeping damp hair back from her forehead.

"No, not at all," she quickly assured him. "Can't you see, Gaston? It's just so beautiful...I'm here, and you're here...we're together...it's like a miracle...no matter what happens, we'll always have the memory of this day to treasure in our hearts."

Gaston's eyes were filled with tears, and he murmured her name over and over again as he began to place tender kisses all over her face. Grace knew that she must soon return to her family, her children, her home, her life. As she lay in Gaston's bed letting him hold and caress her, she fervently wished that there were some way she could make time stand still.

As Gaston held her, he thought about all the times he had imagined this very scenario, wondering what it would be like but not daring to hope that it could ever actually take place. Now that it had, he found that it had borne little resemblance to his fantasies but had exceeded his wildest dreams. The brevity of the encounter made it all the more precious to him, and he knew that he would treasure it for the rest of his life, just as Grace would.


	22. Finally Home

He opened his eyes to find that he was surrounded by dead bodies that seemed to have been there for quite some time, as they were already beginning to bloat. The smell was beyond description; however, the only thing he was immediately aware of was an intense thirst. He spotted a canteen on the body nearest himself and and quickly raised it to gulp greedily. Once his thirst was slaked, he became aware of an almost unbearable pain in his head; gingerly touching it, he pulled away fingers that were soaked in blood. He wondered whether or not he was strong enough to stand. Placing his open palms on the ground, he found that he was able to raise himself to first a kneeling, then a standing, position. From this vantage point he looked around but could see nothing but more dead bodies. Hundreds of them, it seemed.

_My name is Henry Carey. _It came to him with a start. _My wife's name is Grace, and my children are Henry and Guilford. They're waiting for me. I must return to them. _

He noticed that he stood on a steep incline but had no idea which direction was home. Walking downhill was obviously much easier than walking uphill, so he headed in that direction, stepping gingerly over and around dead bodies. With every step, it felt as if a dagger were being thrust into his injured head. He wondered whether or not he would be able to make it all the way down the mountainside without passing out.

Finally reaching level ground, he continued to plod wearily along when he became aware of the sound of horse's hooves and turned to see a carriage approaching.

"Where ye be headin', laddie?" asked a friendly voice.

Henry looked up to see a heavy-set man with red hair, freckles and a jovial face sitting in the carriage. He was dressed like a farmer and wore a big hat.

"I must return home to my wife and children," Henry told him.

"England, aye?"

Henry nodded. That sounded right.

"I can get ye as far as the docks, and after that, y'r on y'r own." The man helped Henry up into the carriage.

"Ye look as if a bear been at ye. Got in a fight, did ye?"

Henry shook his head. He couldn't remember.

As they rode along, the man kept up a nearly constant monologue, telling Henry all about his family, his work, and his home, while Henry sat with his head in his hands, trying in vain to shield it from the jolts of agony arising from every pebble or dip in the road.

"Thank you ever so much, kind sir," Henry said when they had finally reached their destination.

"Tis me pleasure to help a lad in need. May the Blessed Virgin watch over ye and guide ye safely home."

_The Blessed Virgin? _Henry suspected that there was a fundamental difference between himself and his benefactor; even so, he would always be profoundly grateful that the man had been willing to overlook it, and hoped that he himself would have done the same if the situation had been reversed. "God bless you, my friend," he called after the departing carriage.

Henry had to exchange a piece of gold jewelry that he had taken from one of the dead bodies for passage back to England. Once there, he no longer had a constant fear of ambush, although he felt every bit as lost as he had before. He wandered the streets aimlessly, eliciting stares of curiosity, revulsion, and pity from the passersby. He was instinctively drawn to the road leading to London and followed it.

Once in London, he continued on the path that was most familiar to him, until he eventually arrived at a place that seemed particularly familiar. Grace saw him coming and ran to meet him, smothering him with kisses as he relished in her warmth, her softness. Henry and Guilford jumped around shouting excitedly.

He was finally home.


	23. Penitence

_"Welcome to the club." Grace's great grandfather, Charles Brandon, spoke to her. Grace had never known him, as he had died many years before she had been born, but she had heard stories about him. Plenty of them._

"What _club?" she asked._

_"You know damn well what club." Grace didn't like the look in her great grandfather's eyes at all as he waved his hand grandiosely to the side. "Come on in and meet the others..."_

_Uncle Robert and Queen Elizabeth stood with their arms around one another. To Uncle Robert's side stood a woman Grace had never seen before, but she knew that it was her Aunt Amy. Aunt Amy looked profoundly sad, and tears streamed down her face. _But I never realized..._Grace knew that her father would never have said anything negative about Uncle Robert in her presence. Never. Uncle Robert's face changed and became Grace's, Queen Elizabeth's changed and became Gaston's, and Aunt Amy's changed and became Henry's._

_On the scaffold stood Katherine Howard, one of Grace's mother's many great aunts. Katherine's long blonde hair was in a braid, and she wore a white cap. Her last words were those of defiance. "I die a Queen, but would rather die the wife of Thomas Culpepper." The axe, still dripping with Jane Boleyn's blood, was poised over Katherine's neck on the block. It fell lower...lower... _

Grace gasped and sat up in bed, her eyes flying open to stare at the wall in the darkness. Her forehead was clammy with sweat, her heart was pounding, and she was hyperventilating.

Right away, Henry was there, putting his arms around her, comforting her. "Go back to sleep, darling. It was just a bad dream. That's all." Poor, trusting Henry. _You have no idea..._

Grace settled into her husband's arms, but it was a long time before she was relaxed enough to feel drowsy once again.

* * *

><p>As Grace walked along, the very walls of the surrounding buildings seemed to whisper accusations at her. <em>Adulteress. <em>Grace felt as if hot eyes were boring into her very soul.

With a start she realized that she was standing directly beneath the Tower of London where her parents and uncles had been imprisoned following her mother's extremely brief reign. From where she stood, she could see Tower Hill, where both her grandfathers had met their respective fates within months of one another: John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, on August 22, 1553, and Henry Grey, Duke of Suffolk, on February 23, 1554. Grace shuddered involuntarily. She wondered what it would have been like to have known them.

Reaching her destination at last, Grace slowly eased the door of the church open and quietly slipped inside. Never had she felt more pity for the errant Catholics than she did at this moment. She knew that she would never have had the courage to confess what was on her heart to any human priest. With God, who already knew everything anyway, it was simply a matter of admitting that she knew that she had done wrong and was sorry for it.

"Please forgive me, heavenly Father, for I have sinned," Grace implored as she knelt at the altar. "I have wronged my husband, and I have wronged you, my Lord. Take me in childbirth if you must; indeed, it's what I richly deserve, but please don't punish my innocent babe for its mother's sin. And please, dear Lord, keep Gaston safe within Your sheltering arms and shield him from all harm."

Dear, sweet Gaston. Whatever would become of him if anyone were to ever find out? What punishment could ever be severe enough for the commoner who had dared to bed the Queen's first cousin, twice removed? It sickened Grace to even contemplate it. Especially since the whole thing had been entirely her own fault. How on earth could she have been so selfish, so stupid? She had been desperate, crazed with grief, seeking comfort from the one person whom she had known would be more than willing to give it to her.

"Dear God, if I had had any idea whatsoever that Henry might still have been alive, I would never have gone to Gaston..."

_I know that, My child. _It was as if He had spoken to her audibly. A deep peace settled over Grace's soul, a peace such as she hadn't felt since before Henry had left for Glenmalure. Everything was going to be all right. Gaston would remain safe, and Henry would be protected from ever learning the secret that would surely break his heart if he were to ever find it out. The cross would be hers to bear, alone. And after all, hadn't she and Henry made love the night before he had departed for battle? Wasn't it equally likely that the new life inside her body had been a product of that act? Of course it was! Feeling as if a huge weight had just been lifted from her shoulders, Grace stood and began the journey back home.

* * *

><p>The due date the physician had given Grace came and went, and exactly one week later, her daughter was born. As the newborn looked up at her with Gaston's eyes, Grace knew beyond the shadow of a doubt which act of love had resulted in the child's conception.<p>

"She certainly is small," Henry commented.

"Of course she's smaller than the boys were when they were born. Girls tend to be smaller," Grace said quietly.

"But she was born a week late," Henry pointed out. "She looks very dark as well. No one in my family is that dark."

"As you know, Uncle Robert is quite dark. People are always saying how much like a gypsy he looks."

"Still..." Grace's heart was in her throat. Henry shrugged and grinned. Grace went dizzy with relief. "Suzanne," she said softly, stroking the infant's downy head.

"I thought she was to be called Jane for your mother and your father's mother."

"She and her husband and their friends risked their lives to save my parents from the axe, Henry. Not only that, but she sheltered them in her own home, fed them, cared for them, and provided for them. None of us would even be here at all if not for Suzanne and Pierre. Besides, Temperance's daughter is already named Jane, as you know. This way there will be less confusion."

"Very well, then." Henry lifted the baby, and she began to cry. He rocked and shushed her, and the crying subsided.

* * *

><p>Several years later, Grace returned to Gaston's home, accompanied by her young daughter this time.<p>

"I wanted you to meet her," she told him. Gaston looked into the eyes that were so like his own...and his mother's. "Hello," he said.

"Hello," Suzanne replied, staring with round eyes.

"Her name is Suzanne," Grace said.

_"Merci. Merci beaucoup." _Tears filled Gaston's eyes. "May I hold her?"

"Of course you may."

Gaston lifted Suzanne and held her tightly, and her arms went around his neck very naturally. Gaston memorized the way her body felt pressed against his, her sweet, warm weight, the faintly fresh scent of her hair. Grace memorized the image of Gaston holding his daughter so that she would always have it to treasure in the hidden recesses of her mind.

As the carriage rode away, Gaston stood waving and looking into the eyes that would haunt his dreams for many years to come.


	24. The New World Part One

A/N:_ I got a couple of historical dates mixed up and then realized that these two chapters should have come before the one about the Armada. Sorry about the confusion..._

**July 1587**

Robert Dudley, the elder son of Guilford and Jane, thought that he had never been so happy to see dry land. Robert was amongst the crew sailing to the New World aboard _The Lion _with John White in an attempt to set up a permanent colony there.

Jane had appreciated her son's sense of adventure and wanderlust but had been hesitant to see him depart for a journey that was expected to take at least two months. She knew that such a journey held the prospect of many hazards. Guilford was, predictably, more enthusiastic about his son's plans.

"This is the opportunity of a lifetime," he had said. "Why, I'd go along as well if I were younger."

"You wouldn't!" Jane had said. He had just grinned at her. "Why, I believe you would," she had amended.

"I love you, son," she had told Robert while bidding him good-bye at the docks. "Please, please be careful."

"I love you too, Mother," he had replied. "Please don't worry about me. I'm in God's hands, as are we all." Those words had comforted her as no others could have.

The first couple of weeks at sea had been exciting, but then boredom had set in. Although Robert had made friends with the other members of the crew, he began to miss his family and friends back home. Although he didn't regret his decision to come along on the journey, the thought of once again being amongst those he loved became more and more appealing.

After disembarking at Roanoke, all thoughts of home vanished from Robert's mind as he looked about at his new surroundings. Atop a short hill adjoining the beach were clumps of trees and wooden houses. It was a vastly different scenario from the palaces and manors of London to which he had become accustomed for most of his life. It appeared to be even more rustic than his childhood home in London's East End. Would he ever become accustomed to living here? He looked around at the faces of his fellow crew members and saw that they all felt the same way he did. If they could make it here, then he could as well.

The first duty at hand, of course, was to unload the supplies from the ship and set up temporary lodgings for the night. Robert worked alongside his good friend Ananias Dare. Ananias' wife Elenora, who was eight months pregnant, sat in the shade watching them and shielding her eyes with her hand.

Over the next few days, Robert, Ananias, and the others attempted to repair the structures that had been left behind by a previous failed settlement attempt that had been made a couple of years previously.

One day Robert had stepped behind a clump of trees to relieve himself when he heard a haunting melody. It was so faint that at first he wondered whether he had just imagined it. He remained completely motionless and listened. Yes, there it was again. Ever so faint, but definitely there.

Curiosity temporarily overriding caution, Robert began to search for the source of the music. He followed the direction from whence the tune seemed to originate and eventually arrived at a clearing in which he observed a scene that quite took his breath away.

She was the strangest looking young woman he had ever seen. Aside from a scant adornment with feathers, beads, and animal skins, she wore very little clothing. Her skin was of the deepest bronze he had ever seen, her long, perfectly straight hair and her eyes were coal black, and her cheekbones were prominent. She was playing a flute. Her eyes met those of Robert, and in a flash she was gone.

"Wait! Come back!" Robert called. There was no response. Vainly he searched in the direction he thought she must have gone. Finally it occurred to him that he should rejoin the rest of the settlers, and with dismay he realized that he had no idea how to get back to them. He was completely lost. His panic began to rise as the day wore on and he felt no closer to finding his way back. The thought of having to spend the night utterly alone deep inside the woods held no appeal to him at all.

Suddenly he saw her again, hiding amongst a patch of thick foliage. He recognized the look in her eyes. It was the same one he had seen before in the eyes of a wounded animal as the hunter closed in for the kill. With a shock of amazement he realized that she was terrified of him.

He addressed her in as gentle a voice as he could muster. "Please don't be afraid. It's all right. I'm not going to hurt you."

A stream of words flowed from her mouth. Robert knew that it wasn't French, Spanish, German, Italian, or any European language. It was totally unlike any language he had ever heard.

"It's all right," he repeated, extending his hand to her. She approached him ever so slowly until she was finally close enough to slip her hand into his.

"My name is Robert Dudley," he said with a smile. She just stared uncomprehendingly.

"Robert Dudley," he repeated, pointing at himself. He repeated the process several times, until the confusion left her face and she smiled, her teeth a dazzling white against her dark reddish skin.

"Robert Dudley!" she repeated enthusiastically, poking him in the chest with her finger. "Nampeyo," she said, pointing to herself. Progress.

* * *

><p>Nampeyo had instinctively fled in fear when she had first seen the strange-looking man. She knew not whether he was of this world or of that beyond. Certainly she had never beheld one even remotely like him before. A strange-looking material, or rather various strange-looking materials, covered almost his entire body. Undoubtedly he must have been uncomfortably hot. His face and hands were so pale that they looked almost milky white to her, and his hair was the color of straw.<p>

Despite her innate fear, curiosity led her to remain in the vicinity observing him, from a safe distance, of course. He moved around as if he were totally unfamiliar with his surroundings, like a fish out of water. He made far too much noise, certainly enough to frighten away any small animals that might be within earshot. At first she had to suppress the urge to giggle, and then she began to feel pity for him.

When she finally touched his hand she found that it was of solid form and warm and slightly moist like her own. He was a living rather than a spirit being, and as such was a child of the Great Spirit, as she herself and indeed all living things were, so there was no need to fear him. Timidly she touched the material covering most of his body. It was soft and totally unlike anything she had ever felt before. She touched his hair and found that, to her surprise, although it was the color of straw, its texture was very similar to that of her own. He looked uncomfortable, so she stopped touching him.

He said something else, indicating her flute. She brought it to her lips and began to play it once more. He beamed.


	25. The New World Part Two

After awhile Nampeyo passed the flute to Robert. He tried to play it, but of course his efforts sounded nothing at all like her own. She laughed indulgently and took the flute back. Then she took his hand and let him toward another clearing.

In this clearing was a tent made of animal skins, beside which stood an older man and woman. They both looked similar to Nampeyo and were dressed similarly to her. They looked at Robert warily at first, but Nampeyo spoke enthusiastically in her language and motioned toward him, and they soon relaxed and smiled.

Robert ate a meal with them, and slept that night in the tent with them. The next morning Nampeyo looked surprised and delighted to see that he was still there.

"Robert Dudley!" she exclaimed with a big smile.

Robert laughed indulgently. "Just Robert is fine. Or Robin, if you prefer."

"Robin?"

"I was named for my uncle, and the Queen has always called him Robin."

"Queen?"

"Queen Elizabeth of England."

"England?"

"My country. Where I came from." He made hand motions to simulate a ship sailing on the ocean. Nampeyo obviously didn't really understand, but she smiled politely anyway.

Robert stayed with Nampeyo and her family for several weeks. He taught her a little bit of English, and learned a bit of her language as well, mostly the names of plants, animals, and things related to nature and the environment. He was astounded at the amount of respect his new friend and her family had for all living things, even the tiniest and seemingly most insignificant. It was an entirely different way of looking at the world than the one he had been taught his entire life. Whereas he had always been led to believe that mankind was separate from, and superior to, all other life forms on earth, Nampeyo and her family seemed to believe that humanity was one with the rest of the world, that humans were merely one link in a much larger interdependent web.

Robert and Nampeyo eventually came to understand one another well enough that he was able to impress upon her the urgency of returning to the settlement. To his amazement, she took his hand and led him directly to them. As soon as he turned to thank her, she was gone, but then he looked again and saw her smiling and waving to him from behind a bush.

Robert learned that Ananias Dare's daughter had been born August eighteenth and named Virginia after the colony, which had in turn been named for Queen Elizabeth, who had always been known as the Virgin Queen as she had never been married. Robert held the baby and looked down into her tiny face and wondered what it would be like to be a father. He was thrilled for Ananias and Elenora, but meeting their newborn had awakened yearnings within him that he had never felt before. Nampeyo came to his mind and he suddenly missed her very much.

She came back to visit several more times before the crew of _The Lion _was forced to return to England for supplies. Ananias Dare and his family and most of the settlers would stay behind, as they considered Roanoke to be their permanent home. On Nampeyo's final visit, she brought a beautiful necklace made of precious stones. Robert gasped when he saw it.

"It's beautiful, Nampeyo, but I can't accept it," he said, handing it back to her.

She was crestfallen. "Robin no like?"

"I love it, Nampeyo. It's beautiful. But I can't take it from you. It's far too valuable."

"Valuable?" She was totally bewildered.

"This necklace could feed your family for six months, Nampeyo. It's worth a lot of money."

"Money?" Nampeyo frowned. Robert realized that she truly didn't understand and was filled with compassion for not only Nampeyo, but for all her people.

"At least let me pay you something for it," he said, making the appropriate hand motions. Nampeyo shook her head emphatically. "No pay. Nampeyo give. Robin keep."

"Thank you so very much, Nampeyo. I promise to always treasure it." He held her face between his hands and gently kissed her forehead.

"Good-bye, Robin. Great Spirit see you safely home."

"Great Spirit?"

Nampeyo pointed upwards. "Great Spirit. See all. Know all."

Robert understood. He laughed softly. "No, no, Nampeyo. Not the Great Spirit. God."

"God." It had never occurred to her that He might have another name other than the one she had always known Him as.

* * *

><p>On the long voyage home he couldn't get her out of his mind. Lightly he fingered the necklace and thought about how willingly she had parted with an object of such great material value, as if totally unaware that there was even such a thing as material value. He hoped that he would be able to find a hiding place that would be secure enough to keep it when he got home. He thought of what she had said about the Great Spirit, and about her immortal soul, and he felt profoundly sad. More so than he had ever felt before in his entire life.<p>

He knew that he would have to return.

* * *

><p>Jane eagerly awaited the return of her elder son from his long voyage. She was very curious about the New World and wanted to hear all about Robert's adventures. When he finally arrived, she ran to him and embraced him as if she would never let go. Then she stood back to get a good look at him. Although he had been gone only a few short months, she saw that he had definitely changed. He looked...older, somehow. Or perhaps simply more mature.<p>

She listened as he described the work of helping to set up the new settlement, smiled as he told her of Ananias Dare's new daughter. Then he grew more serious.

"There are native people already living in the New World, Mother," he told her. "Strange red-skinned men who dwell in tents, go almost naked, worship gods carved from wood, and engage in strange dancing and chanting rituals. They are highly skilled hunters, fishermen, and farmers, but in other ways their minds are as innocent as those of children. They know nothing at all of God and the truths of His word. We must do all that we can to rescue their souls, Mother. Unless we teach them the truth, there is no hope for them."

Jane reflected that, although Robert was the spitting image of Guilford, she had always considered him to be of all her children the one who was most like herself at heart. His words had just confirmed that for her.


	26. Spanish Armada

**August 1588**

"Francis Drake has spotted ships sailing from Spain," Guilford told Jane. "France may go to war on the side of Spain as well. The Queen is mobilizing a fleet and gathering supplies to go to war. Robert has been appointed her lieutenant general."

"So we are now at war?"

"It would appear so. Philip of Spain was angered by the execution of Mary Stuart. As you know, Mary bequeathed her claim to Elizabeth's throne to Philip, and he is eager to claim what he believes to be rightfully his." Guilford sighed deeply. "We had all so hoped that this could be resolved peacefully, but it seems that is impossible. The Papists will stop at nothing to return ignorance and superstition to our beloved country."

"So there will be more bloodshed and death," Jane said softly.

"I am very concerned for Robert. His health isn't such that he is well fit for fighting. Young Robert and myself will join him at Tilbury."

Jane had just heard the words she had dreaded hearing. The thought of Guilford's life being in danger filled her heart with dread, which was compounded by the probability that her two sons, Robert and Ambrose, would also join in the fighting. She admonished herself, knowing that she shouldn't be selfish, that if the lives of her husband and sons were required to prevent the return of Papacy to England, then so be it. Guilford, knowing exactly what was on her mind, put his arms around her and held her close while she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It shall be over with quickly, darling Jane," he said. "I hear that Elizabeth herself is to appear at Tilbury in support of her troops."

Jane clung to him as if for the last time and didn't say a word.

* * *

><p>"By the power of God, England and the true church have prevailed! The Spanish have been driven away, and we are victorious!" Guilford exclaimed joyfully.<p>

"Praise be to God!" Jane replied, thrilled to finally see her husband again after a longer absence than she had anticipated.

The victory did indeed seem to have come from Providence, as storms had caused major losses to the Spanish in both ships and fighting men.

"I wish you could have heard Her Majesty's speech at Tilbury," Guilford continued. "It was by far more rousing than any speech I've ever heard given by a man."

Jane had to smile at his words. "I'm ever so grateful for the safe return of my husband and sons," she replied. "It brings great joy to me that it was the will of God that your lives be spared, although of course I'm very sorry for the loss of those who weren't as fortunate."

"Many were lost to typhus and dysentery as well, as we were forced to remain on duty due to the regrouping of the Armada at the Battle of Gravelines."

"May God rest their souls," Jane said. "Their deaths were not in vain."

* * *

><p>A rather sad footnote to the English victory was the death of Robert a few weeks later. Elizabeth was, of course, inconsolable, as was Robert's wife Lettice.<p>

"He's with baby Robert now," Lettice said through her tears. Her three-year-old son had died tragically several years previously. With Lettice stood her four surviving children, Robert and Walter Devereux, Penelope Rich, and Dorothy Percy. Guilford and Ambrose embraced one another beside Robert's casket, both of them weeping.

Bessie, standing beside her mother, was devastated at the loss of her favorite uncle. She stared at the floor, simply unable to make herself glance up at the casket, as that would make it all seem too real.

Bessie sensed a presence beside her and looked up into the eyes of Walter Devereux. Walter's eyes were red with weeping as well. He had been very close to his stepfather.

"I suppose this means we're not cousins anymore," Walter said sadly.

"Why, of course we are!" Bessie assured him. Walter had always come to her defense when others had teased her about her limp or her speech impediment, and he had always been very special to her.

Walter took her hand and led her out of Beauchamp Chapel, away from the other mourners. She cast a worried glance in her mother's direction, but Walter smiled reassuringly at her, so she went with him after only a moment's hesitation. He led her to a bench under a tree, where they both sat. The early September breeze was perfect, cool but not chilly.

"It's so hard to see everyone looking so sad," Walter said.

"I feel sadder today than I ever have before in my life," Bessie replied.

"I've so rarely seen you sad, Bessie. You're the most cheerful person I've ever known. I truly don't understand how you can be, as you perhaps have more reason to be sad than do most people, but you are anyway. I've always admired you for that, Bessie."

Bessie smiled. "I've been as I am now for my entire life, so as I've never known any other kind of life, I don't see it as reason to be sad in particular. My mother has told me many times that I was so tiny at birth and came so early that I could have easily died as a baby, so whenever I'm tempted to feel sad I simply remind myself of how fortunate I am to be alive, and to have people who love me. Indeed the doctor has told me that many born very early like myself live their entire lives as helpless babes, unable to move or speak, and often blind as well."

"You're the bravest person I've ever known, Bessie." Walter was amazed at her complete lack of bitterness and self pity, and impressed by the concern she always showed for others in spite of her own hardships.

"Listen, Bessie, I realize this isn't really the appropriate time to mention this, but...do you suppose that Her Majesty would give consent for us to wed?"

Bessie was shocked. It had never even occurred to her that any man would want a wife with a limp and a speech impediment.

"I see no reason why she wouldn't, but...are you sure it's really what you want, Walter? The doctor doesn't know whether or not I'll ever be able to bear children."

"I'm sure, Bessie. I've never known any woman like you, always so kind and brave despite your misfortunes."

"I've never known any man like yourself either, Walter." Bessie suddenly felt very shy for the first time in her life.

"Perhaps your father or mother could speak to her on our behalf." Walter smiled. "As you know, Her Majesty hates my mother."

"Only for marrying Uncle Robert, and he's gone now, of course."

"I imagine she'll always hate my mother. She doesn't forgive and forget easily, does she?"

"Perhaps not, but I do know that she likes your brother. I've even heard her call him 'Sweet Robin' as she used to call Uncle Robert. Some are saying that he's her new favorite."

"My brother likes to push things to the limit, and beyond. He lacks the tact and stealth my stepfather had. He shall lose his head someday if he isn't careful."

"What a horrid thing to say!" Bessie turned to watch the mourners slowly dispersing from Beauchamp Chapel. "I've had quite enough talk of death for such a lovely day!"

"You're right, of course. It was wrong of me to mention it. Please forgive me."

"Of course, Walter." Bessie smiled warmly. "I never could stay cross with you."

"You shall speak to your parents, then?" Walter asked hopefully.

"Of course I shall."

* * *

><p>"It's only Ambrose and myself now," Guilford said bleakly. Jane saw how sad he looked, and her heart ached for him. She held his head close to her bosom and softly stroked his hair.<p>

Bessie watched her parents from just beyond the doorway. She knew that talk of Walter Devereux and marriage would simply have to wait until another day.


	27. Susanna

**October 1590**

"They are all gone," Robert told his mother mournfully. "The buildings and houses have all collapsed, personal belongings strewn about and left to spoil in the rain. Not a trace of anyone there. Some letters were carved into a tree and a post. They gave Governor White hope that perhaps the colonists simply relocated to nearby Croatian Island. We searched local islands for them, but the weather was terrible, and we kept losing anchors, so in the end we were forced to return home and leave them in the hands of God."

Jane wished that there were something she could say to comfort her son over the loss of his friends, but she was lost for words.

Both Robert and his younger brother Ambrose had returned with Governor John White to the colony of Roanoke after three years' absence to find the colony completely deserted with only the barest of clues as to what had become of them. Robert grieved for the loss of his friends Ananias and Elenora Dare and their little daughter Virginia, who had just turned three years old. He had looked forward to seeing them and the other colonists again.

The island was, of course, still populated with native people, and both Robert and Ambrose had taken native women as brides. The young women had both converted to Protestant Christianity and taken Christian names, Susanna and Tabitha. They had accompanied their new husbands back to England.

Jane saw how deeply in love her sons were with their wives, and that quickly erased any qualms she may have had over the young women's appearances or origins. However, she knew that others, especially the Queen, would be much more reluctant to accept the newest Dudley wives and, sure enough, Elizabeth was furious and banned both families permanently from court.

Only a few short weeks after her arrival in England, Susanna lay dying of smallpox.

"As she has lived her entire life in the New World, she has no immunity to diseases rampant in the Old," the physician told Robert. "I'm very sorry."

Robert's heart broke as he watched the woman he loved slip away.

"I took you from your home where you were safe and happy and brought you to London to die." Robert's voice was full of remorse.

"You showed me the true way, Robin." Susanna's voice was barely above a whisper. "You led me to Jesus, my Savior. I would never have found Him if not for you. Thanks to you, I'm going to be with Him in heaven." Susanna gently wiped away a tear from Robert's face as more fell from his eyes and dripped onto the bed's covers. "Please don't cry, dear Robin. You will marry an English woman, a woman of your own kind. She will give you children to care for you when you are old."

"But I want _you _to have my children, Susanna. I want to grow old with _you."_

"It's God's will for me to go and be with Him now. We must not question it," she whispered.

Agony coursed through Robert as he looked at her face, flushed with fever. When he had arrived in Roanoke and found the colony deserted, he hadn't dared hope that he would actually see her again. One of the Seymour girls had seemed interested in him before he had left to return to the New World, but he hadn't encouraged it. Not that he had anything against the Seymours; his long-dead Uncle John had been married to one of them, in fact. It just hadn't seemed right. Then, against all hope, there she had been, still in the same place, waiting for him to return.

And it was true; she would never have learned the truths of God's word if not for him, for his people. Yet, she was so young...God, this was _so _hard...

Without thinking, he retrieved the necklace she had given him so long ago from its hiding place. Her eyes widened with surprise and...joy? He gently placed it around her neck as he softly whispered the name she had been given at birth. "Nampeyo." Her eyes fluttered, then closed, and she lay very still.

Fearing the worst, Robert touched her skin and found that it was cool and moist. Her fever had broken, and she was sleeping naturally. Robert's tears were now those of joy as he thanked God.

* * *

><p>Susanna's recovery was slow and arduous. For several days she was so weak that she was barely able to get out of bed at all on her own. Robert carried her, swaddled in blankets, to sit outside for brief periods of time on sunny days, hoping that she would benefit from the sunshine and fresh air. As she gradually got stronger, she and Robert went for walks hand in hand in the garden or by the river.<p>

It occurred to Robert that perhaps the precious stones in the necklace had healing properties, and he just as quickly put the thought out of his mind, as he realized that it was heretical and he could be burned at the stake if he ever voiced such an opinion. Healing, of course, could come only from God, never from primitive magic.

Susanna came to love the English countryside, so different from her native land. Her new family members were at first intrigued by her exotic looks and soon came to love her for her innocent honesty and sweet nature.

Within a couple of years joy came to Guilford and Jane in the form of two new grandchildren. Susanna gave birth to a healthy son and named him Robert for his father. Jane looked into the coal black eyes of her new grandson and thought about what a very special child he was.

"He's the first of a new generation, a bond between our countrymen and the native people of the New World," she said. "He represents the bringing in of a new people into the fold of God's love."

The same year, a daughter was born to Walter and Bessie Devereux. Happily, Bessie's disabilities hadn't impeded her ability to conceive and bear children at all, and her daughter was born at full term and perfectly healthy. Appropriately enough, she was named Mercy.

Visiting her new granddaughter for the first time, Jane encountered Mercy's other grandmother, the former Lettice Knollys, for one of the few times in her life. Although Robert had now been dead for several years, Elizabeth had never forgiven Lettice was marrying him. Thus, Jane rarely associated with Lettice out of fear of incurring the Queen's wrath, but now she and Lettice had a mutual grandchild.

"She's a beautiful baby," Lettice said. "Your daughter did well, despite her limitations."

"Yes, she did," Jane agreed. "Bessie has never allowed her limitations to stand in the way of anything she really wants to do."

"Perhaps she will give Walter a son as well soon. My Robert's wife Frances gave him a fine healthy lad last year," Lettice said proudly.

"My Robert's wife gave him a son recently as well," Jane told her.

"So that savage woman _is _good for something after all," Lettice remarked.

Jane couldn't believe her ears. All she could see was the light in Robert's eyes when he talked about Susanna. Susanna almost dying of smallpox. Susanna proudly holding her newborn son. Susanna kneeling in prayer to the one true God.

Jane had to turn and walk away immediately to keep herself from striking Lettice.


	28. The End Of The Golden Age

**April 28, 1603**

"It's just so hard for me to believe that she's really gone now," Jane whispered as she stared dolefully at the effigy of Queen Elizabeth above the Queen's purple-velvet-draped coffin. Guilford, standing hand in hand with his wife, nodded curtly. Of course, they had both known of the Queen's passing since Robert Cecil had announced it at Whitehall Palace right after Elizabeth's death in the wee hours of the morning of March 24, but finally seeing her casket really brought it home for both of them.

"Thank God our new King belongs to the true faith, even though his mother didn't," Jane continued. Guilford nodded again, staring glassy-eyed at the effigy and coffin himself.

The succession of James VI of Scotland to the English throne had violated the will of Elizabeth's father, King Henry VIII, which had prohibited the descendants of the Scottish family line from inheriting the throne of England. However, James' succession had been what Elizabeth had wished, and Robert Cecil had smoothed the way for it to happen. Otherwise, the crown would have passed to Jane herself and then, of course, to her son Robert.

Jane, who at sixty-five had no desire whatsoever to take over the leadership of a country, had been overwhelmingly relieved that this time the crown had been passed on with no violence or bloodshed. She knew that the English people would accept even a Scottish King much more readily than they would have accepted Robert's wife Susanna, whom Jane had come to love as a daughter, as a consort. Jane knew that Susanna had been the primary reason Elizabeth had favored James over Robert, and that knowledge hurt worse than she was willing to admit.

Grace and her children stood near Guilford and Jane. Sadly, Henry Carey had never completely recovered from the head injury he had received at Glenmalure. His headaches had gotten progressively worse until he had finally sank into a coma from which he had never emerged. Grace had mourned her husband as any devoted wife, which she had been, would have.

On the outskirts of the mourners stood a slight, dark-complected man wearing a beret. His eyes met those of Grace, and Grace took Suzanne's hand and they walked together to join him.

"I think I met you once before, when I was very little," Suzanne said.

"You did indeed," Gaston replied with a smile. "I remember it very well."

"My father was still alive then," Suzanne continued.

Gaston's eyes met those of Grace. Suzanne noticed the unspoken exchange but had no idea what it meant.

"Much time has passed," agreed Gaston. Almost unconsciously, he began to walk away from the crowd, followed by Grace and Suzanne.

"Henry never fully recovered from the head injury he received in battle," Grace explained.

"I'm very sorry," Gaston replied.

Without a word, Grace's hand slipped into his. Suzanne looked on, puzzled.

"Your mother and I have been very good friends for a long time," Gaston told her. "We grew up together as children."

"I see." Suzanne still felt a bit confused.

"It was Gaston's parents who hid your grandparents when the ruling Catholics sought their death," Grace told her.

"Oh! Well, in that case, my family owes yours a great deal."

"They only did what God would expect of any good Christian," Gaston told her, smiling. "My mother's name was Suzanne, too."

"Was I named for her, then?" Suzanne asked her mother.

"Indeed you were," Grace told her.

* * *

><p>Gaston and Grace were married a few days later, in the little chapel in Gaston's neighborhood. The small wedding was attended by Grace's entire family and Gaston's friends and neighbors. Once Jane recovered from the shock of learning for the first time of her daughter's true feelings for Gaston, she was thrilled about the match, not caring in the least what her friends at court thought about it.<p>

Afterwards, Grace returned with Gaston to the home she had lived in with her children for many years.

"I think I could easily get lost in a house this large," Gaston laughed.

"I've waited ever so long for this day," Grace said in a throaty voice as she led him to the bedroom.

* * *

><p>King James VI of Scotland entered London on May 7. Glancing over the huge crowd of spectators, he saw Robert and Susanna Dudley standing together, holding hands. He looked at their oldest son, taking in the youngster's coal black hair and eyes and prominent cheekbones. There was no way on earth he could envision the boy someday sitting on the throne of England.<p>

Amongst the spectators Guilford and Jane stood quietly. They were both completely white-haired now, but their love for one another was just as strong as it had ever been.

High above, flocks of white seagulls soared over the Thames.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story. :)_


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